The Labyrinth of Amagor
by Argonaut57
Summary: Trapped by Voldemort in the deadly Labyrinth, Harry Potter and his wizard and mutant friends must use all their skills and powers to escape. Meanwhile the Order of the Phoenix and the XMen must battle Death Eaters at Salazar's Keep.


**The Labyrinth of Amagor**

**Chapter 1: An Invitation to Die**

Molly Weasley had come down in her lightest cotton wrapper to make a cup of tea. On this sultry August night, she and Arthur were having difficulty sleeping in the heat. A nice cuppa would be just the thing to send them off. As she passed the living room with her laden tray, she heard soft music, so she put her head around the door to check on the young people - it was half-past-eleven, after all.

They were asleep, all four of them. Hardly surprising, Molly thought, as they had been up early in the morning, out on the lawn, going through the rigorous exercises Harry, Ron and Hermione had brought back with them from their visit to America in the spring. The exercises worked, Molly had to admit, especially on Ron. Her youngest son was now six-foot-four inches of rock-solid bone and muscle; even Fred and George daren't tease him anymore.

Then Molly had set them to dealing with the sadly neglected garden. They had come in for dinner, gone upstairs to use the shower Harry had helped Arthur fit into The Burrow's bathroom during the Easter holiday. Afterward, they had come down (very scantily clad in her opinion, but understandable, mind, because it was so hot) to sit in the living room, listen to music, read and talk. They had also, she suspected, done a fair bit of kissing and cuddling.

She looked at them now and thought, _Oh, bless._ Hermione lay half-curled on her side on one of the sofas, Ron behind her, enfolding her with his arms. The young couple lay spooned neatly together in the same position Molly and Arthur preferred for sleeping. Harry lay sprawled on his back on the other sofa, while Ginny lay face down, mostly on Harry, under one of his wiry arms. That Muggle music machine was on the coffee table; a plaintive woman's voice moaned of being killed softly with a song.

Molly shook her head, smiling. Ron and Hermione went together like salt and vinegar on chips, of course. Harry and Ginny was more of a surprise. Ginny had had a girlish crush on the Boy Who Lived, everyone knew that, but this was something else. It had started over Easter. Harry had stayed with them for the break, and because Ron had gone to stay with the Grangers and Fred and George lived mostly in London now, Harry and Ginny had spent a good deal of time together. By halfway through the holiday, they had 'officially' become a couple, and the former trio was now a quartet. Molly hoped that these two could make a go of it. She smiled again, and went back to bed.

_We must have left the CD player on repeat_ was Harry's first thought on waking. His second was that it had gone awfully cold for a summer night. Even where Ginny's body lay against his, an unnatural chill was leaching the warmth away. He vaguely remembered dreaming a dream that had recurred occasionally since his return from America. In that dream, someone pounded insistently but uselessly against a wall. He had asked Professor Dumbledore about the dream. Dumbledore had consulted Professor Xavier, and Harry learned that the dream was probably a result of Voldemort trying to penetrate the mental shields Harry had learned to put up during his time at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

Harry's head was clearing fast, and he saw that he was not the only one who had awakened. Ginny stirred against him, then heaved herself up, pushing the hair from her face. Ron and Hermione were rousing into a sitting position. "What's going on?" Hermione wondered.

Harry sat up. "Shh!" he said. "Wait and see. Something...something's happening. Nothing really dangerous can get in here, The Burrow is too well protected."

The room grew colder, and a vague shape began to coalesce in front of the fireplace. Harry recognised the gaunt form as it became clearer--the face with its hard, bitter lines, its arrogance and the madness in the red eyes could only be Lord Voldemort!

Ron sprang from the sofa, muscles tensed for battle, to place himself in front of Hermione. Ginny seized Harry's hand in a painful grip. None of them had their wands to hand, and for a moment, they all thought it was the end. Then the figure wavered and flickered - it was a projection or image of some sort.

"Potter." The voice was dry, autocratic, and seemed to come from a distance. "You have become hard to find, boy. Has Dumbledore been teaching his puppy new tricks?"

Harry rose to his feet and faced the spectre directly. "What do you want, Riddle?" he spat out, in the tone he usually reserved for Draco Malfoy. Hermione and Ginny both gasped; even Ron looked shocked.

Anger flared in Voldemort's eyes. "Have you forgotten who you are addressing, boy?" he asked imperiously.

"Oh, I know you, all right. I'm talking to a bitter, twisted, psychotic half-blood called Tom Riddle--a pathetic bully with delusions of adequacy who hasn't even got the balls to meet me face-to-face."

The others clearly didn't believe what they had just heard. Harry could barely believe it himself, but the cold fury that had erupted inside him at Voldemort's appearance _here_, of all places, would not be contained.

For the shortest moment, Voldemort seemed nonplussed, unable to speak, then he turned icy again. "You may dispense with foolish bravado, Potter. Now, listen well. A mile or so east from here is a ruined building in a hollow. Muggles believe that one of their religious orders built it centuries ago: They are wrong, of course. It is now midnight. If you value the lives of your schoolmates, you and your companions will be there two hours from now.

"Do not think to ask for anyone's aid. Such a course would only hasten the deaths of your friends - and make them even more painful. As it is, you will need all your alleged skills and every available minute to save them." Voldemort's figure vanished, taking the unnatural cold with it.

There was silence for a moment, broken when Hermione said, "I think I'm going to be sick." Ron turned and took her in his arms, she clung to him, they were both trembling, but they drew comfort and strength from each other.

Ginny flung herself into Harry's arms, holding him fiercely and scolding him at the same time, "Harry, what the bloody hell did you think you were doing? You deliberately taunted him. For Merlin's sake, it's one thing to take the piss out of Malfoy, or wind up Snape, but that was He...that was _Voldemort_."

Harry had been at considerable pains to make all of his friends and allies speak of Voldemort by name. His efforts were succeeding, he noticed. As his anger drained away, he, too, began shaking. He held Ginny close and silenced her with a kiss.

"I was following training," he told her. "Wolverine told us once to taunt enemies, if we could, to get them good and mad. Angry people make mistakes."

"Right," Harry said heavily, speaking to all of the others. "We don't have much time. We have to dress and get out there. Hermione, do you actually need to throw up?"

"I...think I'm all right, now, Harry. D'you think we should put on our uniforms?" Hermione asked, referring to the combat clothing they had been given in America.

Harry considered that idea for a moment, then shook his head. "No. This is a holiday area, so there are going to be Muggle campers and hikers and whatnot all over the place. A lot of them won't have gone to bed yet. We need to look like four ordinary Muggle teenagers, just in case we're spotted. But we should take the communicators in case we get separated. Voldemort can't spy on those. Hermione, give your spare to Ginny; I've shown her how to use it."

"She'll need a call-sign," Ron pointed out.

Harry smiled at Ginny, still clasped in his arms. He stroked her long, flame-red hair. "_Firebird_, I think. Do you like that, Ginny?"

"_Firebird_," Ginny repeated, testing the sounds. "Yes, I like that. _Firebird_ it is, _Hawk_."

"Right then, let's get going."

As they headed towards the stairs, Hermione remembered, "We should leave a note or something."

"You heard him," said Harry. "If we tell anyone, people are going to die. He's probably bluffing, but I'd not like to bet the Weasleys' lives on it."

Ron and Harry made their way up to the room they were sharing. As they changed into sturdier, outdoor clothing, Ron asked, "Harry, weren't you scared, ripping into V...Voldemort like that?"

"Put it this way, Ron, the first thing I changed up here was my underwear."

Ron laughed, "You always do the unexpected, don't you?"

"I try."

In the girls' room, Hermione reached under the bed and pulled out a duffle bag. The single word _Charm_ was stencilled on it in bold black letters. Hermione unzipped the bag and, ignoring the neat roll of black leather clothing, opened an inside pocket, to extract three objects. Two of them were the discreet but sturdy hands-free communicators used by the combat-trained X-Men protégées of Charles Xavier. The other was a small, rectangular device with a single switch on one face. Glancing round to make sure Ginny didn't notice, Hermione slipped the emergency transponder into her jeans pocket. It went against the grain to go behind Harry's back, but Hermione wasn't going to head into danger without at least the possibility of backup. She prayed Voldemort had no way of detecting such signals, and if she had to activate it, at least _someone_ would know there was a problem. She handed a communicator to Ginny and signalled her to follow.

At that moment, in an ancient fortress hundreds of miles to the north, Draco Malfoy was levitating a man-sized pillar of crystal.

"Be careful, Draco," Narcissa Malfoy said sharply. "If you drop that, it would be fatal to the prisoner, and we need him alive, at least for now."

"I _do_ know what I'm doing, Mother, though the _why_ remains a mystery."

Narcissa smiled warmly at her son. Unlike Lucius, she couldn't simply _order_ Draco to do anything. Recently, Draco had begun to show an utter contempt for anyone female. "I've told you, darling," Narcissa wheedled, "nobody over the age of eighteen can enter the Labyrinth, even from this end. If this works - and it _will_ - Potter will no longer be a threat to anyone. In fact, you may have him as a plaything, if you want."

With his back turned to his mother, Draco rolled his eyes. Did she still think he had any interest in _that_ kind of play? Draco had no taste for the physical activities that increasingly absorbed the attention of his schoolmates. What he craved was _power_. Gaining it in secret, wielding it from the shadows - that was how real satisfaction could be had. Sex, of any kind, could not come close to equalling that thrill.

Unbeknownst to Narcissa, Draco had read the parchment that shared his pocket with an hourglass and a vial of potion. He knew that this task, however menial in appearance, was bringing him closer to a centre of power, giving him knowledge he might be able to use later. He began to guide the pillar though the portal.

Narcissa watched him work. Draco had improved a great deal lately, but she would have given much to have a son as talented as the Potter boy. Draco was so like Lucius, she thought, but even colder, if that were possible. Narcissa's marriage had been arranged to join the ancient houses of Black and Malfoy. The Malfoys had done their duty in producing an heir. But after that task was accomplished, well, Lucius had his mistresses, and she had her lovers, and as long as they were discreet, who was to care? But Draco...Draco showed no interest in either girls or boys; he seemed dead from the waist down. Narcissa had even obtained 'professional' help - a compliant Nymph - to no avail. Draco was a problem to look into later.

The boy had completed his task, so Narcissa sent him back by Portkey to Malfoy Manor. Now came the difficult part: she, Number Two of the Knights of Walpurgis, had to act the loyal subordinate to their pawn, Lord Voldemort. She allowed herself a private smile. Voldemort saw only two possible outcomes for this plan: Either Potter would perish in the Labyrinth or he would remove himself from the board when faced with the final dilemma.

Narcissa was more subtle; she had other ideas. Potter was a powerful young Wizard, resourceful and clever. The Labyrinth was unlikely to overcome him. As for the final dilemma, it was Narcissa's hope that Potter would prove ruthless enough to stay in the game. That action would prove him to be a better choice for the Knights than that disgusting madman Voldemort. Narcissa felt a quiver of sensual anticipation. She had not abandoned her plan to tempt Harry Potter into her bed, a 'sacrifice' she was more than willing to make - in a higher cause, of course.

For now, though, she rearranged her face into the expression of subjection tinged with fear that Voldemort liked to see, and made her way down into the bowels of the fortress. She found Voldemort in the great central chamber, watching the Muggle at work. The green glow that surrounded the object Voldemort sought was as bright and deadly as ever. The Muggle was a silhouette against the light, working steadily on his bizarre devices. Narcissa waited dutifully until Voldemort deigned to address her.

"Well?"

"All is ready, Master. The prisoner, the note and the other things are placed as you commanded. I have sent the boy away."

"Good. One way or another, I will be free of this prophecy."

"Yes, Master. What progress here?"

"It seems the other Muggle we captured was correct. The deadly light _is_ what he called 'gamma radiation'. This American Muggle knows much of this energy, and should be able to penetrate the ring for us in due course. The Imperious Curse slows him, of course, and he is surprisingly resistant. But, within days, life unending will be mine!

Voldemort paused, eyes looking beyond Narcissa. When he remembered she was there, he said, "Begone! Look to our defences. Dumbledore must know that Salazar's Keep has been opened. We should expect the Order to make an attempt upon us soon."

The four teenagers made their way through the warm, bright summer night. Ron and Ginny knew the area well. As children, they had played in and around the ruin Voldemort had mentioned. To the casual observer, they looked like any four kids out for a romantic midnight stroll; a keen observer might have noticed that they walked rather quickly, without the usual amorous interludes.

Harry was trying to stay sharp, something the familiar icy rage that still surged through him helped him to do. They were walking into a trap, that much he didn't need Ron's strategic brain to tell him. Voldemort had told him his friends' lives depended on his cooperation, once again using danger to friends as a lever to bend him. Well and good, but that meant his friends had to be there, which also meant he could free them: and that meant that his friends might be able to help _him_. Harry had come to realise that his friends had their own strengths, that none of them lacked courage, and that they were as loyal to him as he was to them.

Harry's time with the X-Men had taught him how much could be achieved by a team working together. During the summer term, he, Ron and Hermione had re-formed Dumbledore's Army to pass on the skills they had learned in America. If Voldemort thought that Harry would have to face any threat alone, or burdened with helpless dead weights, the self-styled Dark Lord was very wrong indeed!

Take Ginny, for instance. She was beside him now, her arm round his waist, his around her shoulders. They seldom held hands, as Ginny preferred as much physical contact as the situation allowed. Part of Harry had wanted to persuade her to stay at The Burrow, but he knew better. She would not have stayed; there would have been a row; time would have been wasted. Ginny was brave, determined and fierce - as much a born fighter as Ron. For his own part, Harry needed her at his side. He loved her as passionately as she loved him, but that did not give him the right to decide things like this for her.

Ahead of them, Ron and Hermione suddenly stopped. As Harry and Ginny drew up to them, Ron said quietly, "This is as close as we can get to the ruin without being seen from it. How are we for time?"

Harry consulted the watch Kitty Pryde had given him as a parting gift. "We've about an hour till deadline. We should do a recon.

"Hunter, take the opposite quadrant; Charm, go left, Firebird right. I'll take this one. Set the communicators to Tactical One. Meet back here in forty-five minutes. Report back if you spot anyone, but avoid contact."

Hermione grinned, "D'you know how much like Cyclops you sound?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you. Now move on, and let's be careful out there."

They slipped into the woods, silent as ghosts. This was a new experience for Ginny, and she suddenly saw the uses of the training Harry, Ron and Hermione had insisted she learn. She and the other members of Dumbledore's Army had understood and been eager for more of Harry's Defence Against the Dark Arts training, but the other stuff had caused some puzzlement. Ron, her easy-going big brother, had turned into a grim-faced martinet, putting them all through a gruelling regimen of physical exercise, turning the Room of Requirement into a fully stocked Muggle gym. Ginny had to admit, she felt better for it: she was stronger, and it had done wonders for her figure. All three of them had given instruction in various styles of unarmed combat - something almost unknown in the Wizarding world.

But it was Hermione, light-footed and always poised, who had taught Ginny to move like this. She glided through the woods now, placing her feet with care, watching the shadows with the edges of her eyes, listening for unnatural sounds. If the Death Eaters had set an ambush, she would sense it well in advance. The Muggle device that nestled over her ear, the small microphone extending down her cheek, was another edge. Ginny knew how to use it, but had no clue as to how or why it worked, and neither would Voldemort (she forced herself to think the name); he would be unlikely to intercept messages sent through it.

Harry covered his quadrant quickly and thoroughly. There was nothing out of the ordinary, no lurking enemies. Now he waited against the trunk of a tree, overlooking a small hollow. At the centre of the hollow was what looked like a ruined chapel. No one was near it, but a pearly glow shone from inside, casting bizarre shadows over the grass. _What was going on here?_

"Hunter to Hawk, all clear. I'm coming in."

"Copy. Charm, Firebird, anything?"

"Nothing."

"All clear."

Shortly afterward, Ron appeared soundlessly at Harry's shoulder. "I'm out of practice," he said ruefully. "You didn't jump."

Harry shook his head. "You didn't make any noise, Ron. I _felt_ you coming."

Ron frowned. "It happened again, didn't it?"

"Yes. For God's sake, don't tell Ginny or Hermione; they'd go frantic."

Professor Xavier had discovered that Harry had a latent telepathic ability. Harry thought it might be a twisted inheritance from his childhood encounter with the powerful Legilimens Voldemort. Mind reading had provided Voldemort with a way to spy on Harry until he'd learned to shield his mind. After a mental duel with the telepathic villain Emma Frost, Harry had experienced occasional mental _flashes. _Ron was the only one Harry felt he could trust with this information.

Ron said, "You're going to have to talk to Professor Xavier about it sometime, Harry. If it starts to happen more often or gets stronger, you'll need to learn to control it."

"I know. I'm relying on you to tell me when that time comes, mate." Harry sighed. The conversation ended there, as Hermione and Ginny appeared out of the shadows.

Harry glanced at his watch. "Right. It looks like we've no choice except to go in there. We go into the hollow openly and approach the ruin along this path. Keep your wands out and try to look like scared kids. We want Voldemort to underestimate us."

He paused a moment to study their faces. "Look, we're heading into trouble, again. As usual, we don't know if we're going to come out of it. So, I just want to say this, because I always forget to: Thanks, all of you. I couldn't ask for better friends. You're the nearest I've got to a family, and that means a lot to me. Just let's do our best to stay alive down there, OK?"

There was a silence, then Ginny stepped into Harry's arms and held him tight as they kissed. All four of them exchanged brief hugs, then they started down into the hollow, As they went, Hermione reached into her pocket and flipped the switch on her transponder.

Harry led the way directly to the archway that had once contained the door to the ruin. The four looked inside, and received a shock.

Whatever was beyond the door was not the roofless interior of the ruin. Here was a stone chamber, quite large, floor and walls covered with carvings. In the centre of the room, a half-dozen figures stood in stiff and unnatural poses.

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione whispered. "There's Neville and Lavender--Seamus, too."

"I see them," Harry said through gritted teeth. "The Patils and Luna, as well. What's going on?"

The air around them went cold, again. Harry spun, raising his wand. Once more, he confronted a flickering projection of Voldemort. "Back again, Riddle?" Harry taunted, the familiar icy flame of rage blazing up in him again, "Why don't you just face me, one-on-one? Still haven't found your spine, eh?"

_Oh God, Harry! Don't, please,_ Ginny thought desperately. This was a side of Harry that scared her badly. He was going to get himself killed one of these days, and Ginny didn't want to be there to see it.

_When he's like this, he could almost BE Voldemort,_ Hermione marvelled, and that thought made her even colder than Voldemort's magical chill.

_Go for it, Harry!_ Ron thought at his friend.

"Enough of your childish insults, Potter." Voldemort seemed in better control of himself this time. "Now pay heed. In moments, the ceiling of yonder chamber will begin to descend. It is up to the four of you to find the way to stop it before your friends are crushed.

"But be warned, once you pass the portal, there is no return by this path. Your only escape will be through the Labyrinth of Amagor, and if you fail the test, your lives will be forfeit.

"Now Potter, are you strong enough to let these others die, knowing your life to be more valuable than theirs? Or are you a weakling like Dumbledore, willing to risk yourself for those lesser than yourself?"

"You've got a twisted idea of strength and weakness, Riddle," snarled Harry. "Now, if you're done, piss off. I'm busy."

Voldemort began to laugh. It started out as a mocking chuckle, but then escalated into the high, shrieking cackle of a madman. "Go, fool!" he howled. "Die, and all your friends with you!" His form vanished.

From inside the ruin, a rumbling sound began. The four dashed to the door, seeing the stone ceiling inching down towards their friends. "In--now!" barked Harry. They dashed through the archway, felt a sudden Portkey-like disorientation, and the lights went out.

For a moment, Harry felt blind panic. He got a grip of himself and said, "_Lumos!_" In the glow from the tip of his wand, Harry saw that he was in the chamber with the descending ceiling--the chamber that held his trapped friends. Then Hermione conjured a floating globe of white light, which rose to the ceiling and illuminated the entire room. The ceiling was coming down with steady inevitability.

"There's a door over here," called Ron, "but it's sealed. I'll bet it won't open until we've stopped the ceiling."

Ginny was examining their friends. "They're alive, but in some kind of trance," she reported. "We won't have time to rouse them before we all get flattened."

"Shh!" ordered Hermione. "Let me think."

She was standing in the centre of the room, studying the floor. "There's writing here. It says: _Here is the beginning of your journey. Here also it may end. Reduce the conundrum to its elements._ What does that mean?" Hermione's eyes swept the chamber. "All of you, look around--look at the pictures and carvings. Anything to do with...with _elements_."

It was Harry who found it. There was a circle inlaid in the floor, and at four equally spaced points, there were symbols he recognised: _Earth, Air, Fire_ and _Water_, the Four Elements. The symbols were slightly raised. Hermione ran across and stood on the Earth symbol. It sank into the floor with a soft click. She nodded.

"Right! Ginny, you're Fire; Ron, Water. Harry, you'd better be Air!"

They did as directed. The Fire symbol acted as the Earth one had done, but the Air and Water ones did nothing. Hermione frowned and muttered to herself.

Ginny looked across. "That couldn't have worked, anyway, Hermione. Harry and I are the same sign."

Harry suddenly grasped Hermione's thinking; she was a Virgo - an Earth sign, Ron was Pisces - Water. But both he and Ginny were Leos -Fire signs. They were short an Air sign, but that didn't explain why Ron had been unable to activate the Water symbol. Hermione was clearly racking her brains.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Er, I'm a bit closer to the ceiling than the rest of you. Anybody mind if I start panicking early?"

Ginny giggled in spite of herself. "I'll start to panic when you lose your sense of humour, Ron!"

Hermione looked up. "Humour? _Humour_! Of course, it's so _simple_! I must be losing what's left of my mind. Harry, Ron, switch places."

They obeyed, and this time both symbols sank into the floor. The ceiling came to a halt, and then slowly rose to its original height. Harry stepped carefully off the Water symbol. Nothing happened. The four of them met in the middle of the circle, exchanging congratulatory hugs.

"OK, Hermione," said Ron, "dazzle us with the explanation of how you saved our skins this time."

She leaned back against him, and he wrapped his arms round her. Ginny nestled into Harry again as he dropped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's First Year Potions," she told them. "D'you remember Snape talking about the Alchemists? The Four Humours and the Four Fluids? Well, the Fluids are linked to the Elements as well as to star signs. Everybody knows about astrology, but how many people know about the Humours?"

Harry nodded. "I remember now, something about people being Phlegmatic or Choleric or whatever?"

"Exactly. I stood on Earth because I'm a Virgo, and put Ginny on Fire as a Leo, and that's what threw me at first. I activated the symbol because I'm phlegmatic, which is also earthy. Ginny is choleric, of course..."

"No shit, Sherlock," muttered Harry, then yelped as Ginny pinched his bum, hard.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "When you two have _quite_ finished! Anyway, Ginny made that comment about humour, so I realised what the key was, and that you two were on the wrong symbols. Ron is sanguine, so he needed to be on Air." Hermione's eyes softened, and she reached forward to lightly touch Harry on the cheek. "You had to go on Water, Harry, because you, my poor dear, are definitely melancholic!"

She snuggled back into Ron. "I'm sorry I took so long to work it out. This love machine of mine must have bonked one too many of my brains out!"

"Can I help it if this woman is insatiable?" asked Ron of the world in general.

"I think," said Harry firmly, "that _that_ comes under the heading of too much information!"

Just at that moment, Neville groaned and staggered, clutching at his head. The others also stirred, looking around in confusion, muttering, "What? Where?" Lavender saw Neville. She flung herself into his arms. Harry and the others began questioning the former captives.

"I got an Owl," explained Seamus. "It was from _you, _Harry. At least, it looked like your writing, and the bird delivering it looked just like Hedwig. It said to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron to meet you there on DA business and not to tell anyone. I remember setting out, then I was here. That's all I know."

The others told pretty much the same story. It seemed that Voldemort not only knew about Dumbledore's Army, but also knew enough about Harry to create an imitation Hedwig. Somebody at Hogwarts must have been spying.

"Snape, I'll bet," Ron growled.

"No," said Harry, somehow certain of that fact. However unpleasant the Potions Master might be personally, Harry did not see him as Voldemort's lapdog. "Not Snape. Malfoy, or one of his lot, I'd say. The whole school's one big gossip shop; all he'd have to do is keep his ears open and write to his parents, who surely work for Voldemort. Anyway, the Army isn't very secret anymore.

"We can think about that another time. Right now, we have to find out where we are, and how to get out of here," Harry concluded.

"Over here," called Padma Patil. "There's writing on this door."

"That wasn't there before," Ron said firmly. "It must have been charmed to appear only if the first trap were avoided."

They clustered around the writing. The bold, golden letters read: _Enter the Labyrinth of Amagor. Here shall your worth be tested. Here it shall be shown if you have learned from the teachings of your Masters. Here shall you learn if you be pure and brave of heart or false and cowardly. Enter now, and face the guile and the minions of Amagor._

Ron reached out to push lightly on the door. It edged open. "Well, at least the way forward is open," Ron said cheerfully.

"Voldemort didn't make this place," Luna pointed out. "It's ancient. He must have discovered it. I wonder who built it, and why?"

"It's a testing ground," Harry surmised. "A place where Wizards--or someone--were tested to see if they measured up. I've never heard of any such place, though."

"I wonder..." Hermione tapped a finger on her lips, studying the inscription. "I've a horrible suspicion this may be how Wizards were tested in the days before O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s."

"Give me the N.E.W.T.s any day," Parvati quipped, getting a general laugh.

"Well," said Neville, "at least we have an idea of where we are. Unfortunately, nobody else does."

"Er, that may not be _quite_ true," said Hermione with a grimace. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the transponder, holding it up so they could all see the red light blinking steadily. "I'm sorry, Harry. I know you said not to tell anyone, but I thought this would be safe. I switched it on as we came down into the hollow."

She looked apprehensively at Harry, expecting a severe ticking off, but instead, Harry did something that was still new enough to surprise her. He stepped forward and gave her a quick hug. "Hermione, you are so predictable. I knew you'd do something like this."

Harry stepped back and reached into his own pocket. "Snap," he said, holding up an identical active transponder. As Hermione stared, Ron leaned forward and produced his device. He grinned. "As Sam might say, we're three for three."

"Well, that's something, anyway," said Harry, "but I'll bet the signal stopped when we entered here. They'll only be able to trace us as far as the ruin. Unless the portal is still open, they can't follow us. We have to assume we're on our own.

"Looks like the only way out is through. So, that's where we're going. By the look of things, it's not going to be friendly in there. Hermione, you and Neville take point; Ron and Seamus, watch our backs. Stay close, everyone, and--" Harry stopped suddenly, his eyes widening.

_Harry? Are you there? Harry?_

"Kitty?" he gasped.

_Someone _did know where they were.

**Chapter 2: Friends in Need**

Alex Summers stretched his long limbs and gave a sigh of half-amused frustration. He had come back to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters to spend the summer in refresher training. He and his lover Lorna had passed up the chance for a romantic few weeks in Bermuda in order to be chewed out by that psycho Wolverine, and then sit for hours in the Comms Room! He turned as the door opened, breaking into a grin when he saw Scott enter with two steaming mugs of coffee.

A stranger seeing these two would know in an instant that they were brothers. Both had the same rangy, powerful build, the same strong-boned face. There, however, the resemblance ended. Alex, the younger by two years, was blue-eyed and blond, while Scott was dark. His eyes, Alex recalled, were brown, but no one had seen them in years. Alex's face was open, cheerful, and always on the verge of a smile, but Scott's was closed, marked with lines etched there by responsibility and personal tragedy.

The most noticeable difference between the brothers was the heavy, ruby-quartz visor that Scott Summers, _Cyclops_ of the X-Men, was forced to wear to restrain the powerful energy beams that would otherwise blaze uncontrollably from his eyes. Alex was also a Mutant; his body metabolised the still-mysterious force known as _cosmic energy_, and he was able to project it from his hands as bolts of great destructive power. Alex was the X-Man code-named _Havok_.

Scott smiled, handing Alex his coffee, and dropping into a seat. "How's it going, little bro?"

"Quiet everywhere, Scott. Nobody's attacking Mutants at the moment. I should've come here in the spring. I heard that's when the real fireworks took place."

Scott shook his head. "If you think fighting Sentinels and baby-sitting wizards is exciting, you need therapy!"

The brothers bantered for a while, then Scott left. Alex settled down to the rest of his shift. Suddenly, the console in front of him began to beep. "Uh-oh!" he said aloud, turning to the screen, "Emergency transponders, three of them." His fingers danced over the keyboard. A map of southwest England flashed up, showing three glowing dots. A sidebar presented three code names.

"Charm, Hawk and Hunter?" Alex scratched his head. "Never heard of them. Cerebro, identify!"

The computer responded in a pleasant, female voice: _**Charm**_ _Hermione Granger; status reserve; usual location, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, UK. __**Hawk:**__ Harry Potter; same status and location. __**Hunter:**__ Ronald Weasley; same status and location._

"OK, doesn't help much. Hang on--those were the three kids who came here in the spring." Alex pressed a switch.

A moment later, the voice of Charles Xavier, principal of the school, came out of the speaker. "Yes, Havok?"

"Professor, I have three transponders lit, all in southern England. The names are Charm, Hawk and Hunter. Shall I try voice-comm?"

"Go ahead. Keep me informed."

Just as Alex began to send, the signals vanished. Alex's attempts to reach the three young X-Men through the satellite communication link prompted nothing but static. Either they were not carrying communicators, or something was blocking the signal. He contacted the professor.

"I understand, Alex," Xavier replied. "Remain at your post and watch out for more signals. I will try to reach them by other means."

Sitting in his study, Charles Xavier reached out with his telepathic mind to one of his students: _Kitty?_

_Yes, Professor._

_Do you still have the bracelet Harry gave you?_

_I'm wearing it now. Why?_

_Might be important. Come to my study, please._

Moments later, Xavier looked up and said, "Come," knowing that Kitty Pryde was about to tap on his door. It was a trick he liked to play on his students. Kitty - _Ariel_ - responded in kind, phasing in through the door rather than opening it.

Typically, she began talking before she reached his desk. "What's the matter, Professor? Is Harry OK? Is he in trouble? What can I do?"

Xavier held up a hand to quiet her. Her agitation was understandable; she and Harry had had a brief but intense romantic relationship during the spring, and they were still very close. "I'm not sure, Kitty. Havok just reported that Harry and his friends have activated their emergency transponders. Alex lost the signal almost immediately, and has been unable to reach them with communicators.

"Now, your bracelet is magically attuned to Harry's mental wavelength. I want you to try to reach him. I realize the mental link is of short duration, but as soon as you pinpoint him, I will take over. Do you understand what we need to do?"

Kitty nodded, and then closed her eyes to focus on a memory of Harry's much-loved face. As she did so, she placed her right hand on the delicate silver bracelet decorated with blue forget-me-nots that hung around her left wrist. The sensation was like gliding through a silver mist, looking for something, then finding a golden glow that was both light and warmth - Harry!

_Harry? Are you there, Harry?_

Kitty felt a flicker of surprise from Harry before she heard, _Kitty--You found me!_

_I'll always find you, Harry. Listen, the Professor needs to talk to you._

_Oh. OK._

Both Kitty and Harry felt the immense power of Xavier's Mutant mind as he gently took over the link. _Harry, can you tell me what's happening?_

_Not really, Professor. Voldemort, or his image, turned up at The Burrow. He's taken some of our friends hostage to lure us into a place called the Labyrinth of Amagor._

Harry went on to tell Xavier of the night's events and gave him the location of the ruin where they had entered the Labyrinth.

_I understand, Harry. I will contact Professor Dumbledore at once. Exercise caution, remember your training, and stick together! I will contact you again as soon as possible. Take care._

Xavier broke off the contact, and turned to Kitty. "Thank you, Kitty. I must get in touch with Professor Dumbledore. You can go back to your friends now."

She didn't move. "What are we going to do, Professor?"

"_We_ are going to do nothing, Kitty. This is a Wizarding matter; no doubt Professor Dumbledore will know what to do."

Kitty scowled. "Professor, our friends are in trouble. We have to help!"

"It's not our business, Kitty."

"Yes, it is! They're our _friends_." Flushed, angry and close to tears, Kitty spun on her heel and dashed out _through_ the door. Xavier sighed and shook his head. Then he unlocked a drawer in his desk and took out an antique hand mirror. He looked into it and said clearly, "Albus Dumbledore!"

The mirror misted over, then cleared, revealing the face of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School. His expression was one of surprise and pleasure. "Charles! How remarkable! I was about to contact you with a question I hoped you could answer for me."

"Of course, Albus, if I can, but just now, I'm afraid we may have a situation."

When he set aside the mirror, Xavier sent out an urgent mental call, summoning the senior X-Men to his study.

Marie D'Ancanto - _Rogue_ - looked up in surprise as her best friend came storming into the Rec Room. Kitty was clearly upset and angry, and making a beeline for Marie. The tall, southern girl straightened and laid down her pool cue. "What is it, Kitty?" she asked.

"Harry's in trouble," Kitty blurted out. "And the Professor says we're not gonna _do_ anything!" Kitty stamped her foot and fixed outraged eyes on Marie. Marie turned to her pool partner. "Sam, get the others. _Now_."

Sam Guthrie, code-named _Cannonball_, nodded and went off without a word. Marie concentrated on calming Kitty. _It was a pity things had to be so complicated_, she thought. Kitty and Harry Potter had brought their short romance to a bittersweet end in the spring, acknowledging the futility of continuing their relationship across three thousand miles of ocean. They were still special friends, writing each other weekly, in spite of the fact that Harry was now dating the sister of his best friend. Marie knew Ginny Weasley from her own time at Hogwarts, and understood why Ginny and Harry were attracted to each other. Learning of this romance, Kitty had been a little weepy for a while, but had put aside her sadness when she discovered her own feelings for classmate Peter Rasputin - _Colossus_.

Rogue knew there was more at stake here than old love affairs. The exchange scheme between Hogwarts and Xavier's had forged more than one deep and loyal friendship. Marie herself remained close to her Hogwarts friends Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. She had also, through a continuing and regular correspondence, come to know Harry Potter. There were other issues, too, such as loyalty to teammates and Housemates. Rogue was an X-Man, and so was Harry, who'd been given the code name _Hawk_. For her own part, Marie was proud to consider herself a Gryffindor, so Harry was a Housemate, too!

Fortunately, this summer all the senior students had elected to stay at Xavier's for advanced training. By the time Kitty calmed enough to speak, they had all gathered in the Rec Room: fiery Roberto, determined Dani, shy Rahne, laconic Sam and gentle Peter. Also there were two, new recruits: tall, lovely Alison Blair - _Dazzler_ - and the young samurai, Shiro Yoshida - _Sunfire. _Best of all, Marie's own lover, warm-hearted Bobby, who bore the ironic nickname _Iceman_, had taken his accustomed place at her side.

Marie said, "Tell us what's going on, Kitty."

Kitty explained that Hawk, Charm and Hunter's transponders had been activated and that Professor Xavier had contacted Harry via her enchanted bracelet. She told them what she had 'overheard' of the Professor's and Harry's mental conversation--how Harry and three companions had gone to rescue more of their friends and were now trapped in the mysterious (and probably dangerous) Labyrinth of Amagor. Finally, angrily, Kitty told the others that Xavier seemed unwilling to do anything except inform Professor Dumbledore.

"He said it was Wizarding business! But it's not; it's _friend_s business!"

"More than that," put in Roberto hotly, "it's X-Men business. Cyclops said it himself; Charm, Hawk and Hunter are X-Men, and we _don't_ leave our people in trouble!"

"It's also Gryffindor business," rumbled Peter, "and _that_ concerns Marie, Bobby and me, even more than the rest of you."

Marie nodded. "You're right, of course, but it's not like they're being attacked by the Hellfire Club or Magneto. Kitty said that Voldemort guy was behind it. Professor X might not want us barrelling in and getting in the way of the Wizarding authorities--_Aurors_ I think they're called."

"Yeah, right!" snorted Dani. "Since when did the X-Men ever bother about the authorities?"

"Kitty, you said that Harry had some of his friends with him. How many, and who?" Rahne asked.

"Well, there's Ron, Hermione and...and Ginny. The others? Let me think. There were the Patil twins, Lavender Brown, and Luna somebody plus two boys, Seamus and Neville."

Rahne nodded. "He's well backed up, then. Anybody crossing Ron is in a world of hurt!" During the student exchange, Rahne had become rather fond of the brawny, red-haired Gryffindor. Her boyfriend, Sam, also thought a lot of Ron.

"Let's not forget that Charm knows how to kick butt, too!" Kitty reminded them all.

"Ginny's a tigress when her dander's up," Peter put in, "and Seamus is hell on wheels in a fight."

"Lavender and Parvati can both handle themselves," noted Marie. "What about the other girls?"

"I worked with Padma and Luna the night of the raid," Bobby recalled. "They're both cool headed and smart as whips - Ravenclaws," he added, as if that meant something special.

"That leaves Neville," continued Marie. "And he--"

"--he's got two big, brass ones hanging there," Bobby laughed.

"Hey! Watch your mouth. There are ladies present," snapped Sam.

"Screw that, Sam," said Bobby flatly.

"Can it, both of you!" Rogue growled. Surprised to hear that flat, level tone from him, she shot an anxious look at her man. His tone could only mean one thing: Easy-going Bobby was mad as blazes!

They all were, despite their encouraging words to each other. They were worried for their teammates, their Housemates, their dear friends--and they were mad at Xavier for not doing what was so obviously the right thing. When Rogue next spoke, her voice had slipped into a distinct Southern drawl the others knew only emerged when trouble was in the air. "Ah reckon it's 'bout time we had a li'l word with the Professor!" She turned to Alison and Shiro. "Lookee here, y'all weren' on the team at the time. If y'all don' wanna take part in this, tha's fine."

Alison said, "I knew Hawk and the others, maybe not as well as you did, but I spoke with Ron once or twice, and I liked him. I'm in."

Shiro shrugged. "For me there is no issue. Honour requires that we assist our friends and allies."

Rogue smiled. "OK, then. Y'all folla me."

Xavier's summons to the senior X-Men had been answered with characteristic promptness. First to arrive, appearing out of thin air in a cloud of black smoke, was Kurt Wagner - _Nightcrawler_ -- who took his usual place atop the sideboard. Soon after, a firm knock on the door announced the arrival of Scott, accompanied by the beautiful Ororo Monroe - _Storm_ - and the blue-furred Henry McCoy - _Beast_. As they took their accustomed places, they were joined by the stocky figure of Logan - _Wolverine_ - and Xavier's old friend Sean Cassidy - _Banshee_.

Last to arrive were Alex Summers and his long-time lover, Lorna Dane. A slender and attractive young woman with startling, natural lime-green hair, Lorna was a Mutant whose ability to manipulate magnetic fields had earned her the code name _Polaris_.

"Please be seated, all of you," instructed Xavier. "Our visitor should be joining us momentarily."

There was a resounding _BOOM _as Albus Dumbledore Apparated into the room, gaining an admiring look from Nightcrawler as he did so. Xavier quickly introduced the wizard to those X-Men he had not met, then said, "Albus, I think you had best tell everyone what you just told me."

Dumbledore nodded and began, "You must first know that Hogwarts School was founded, a thousand years ago, by four wizards: Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. At that time, each built a home, a private sanctuary if you will, some distance from the school. When the Four passed away, their homes were magically sealed, and have remained so until now.

"But, a fortnight ago, it appeared that Salazar's Keep had been opened. This news caused me concern, for when the Keep was built, a Talisman of Life Unending was hidden there, behind a barrier of 'deadly light' that no wizard or other living thing could pass. Investigating further, I found that Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were responsible for opening the Keep. I believe that Voldemort is seeking the Talisman.

"I must admit to complacency at this point, thinking that the barrier would prevent Voldemort from reaching the Talisman, as it has all others. But, today, I received an urgent message from an American wizard. He witnessed the abduction of a Muggle by three British wizards who revealed they were taking this Muggle by Portkey to 'the Keep'. I can only conclude that they meant Salazar's Keep. The Muggle has been identified as a scientist named Dr Bruce Banner."

Reaction to Dumbledore's words was immediate and uniformly grim. There were gasps from Ororo, Alex and Kurt. Sean murmured, "Oh, dear God!" Lorna went pale. Hank closed his eyes and shook his head, while Scott sucked in his breath and Logan swore.

"I take it the man is known to you?" said Dumbledore.

Xavier rubbed his face with a hand. "Professor McCoy knows Dr. Banner personally. He can explain best. Hank?"

"Bruce Banner is one of the foremost minds of our time," said the Beast, in the cultured voice that contrasted so sharply with his animal-like appearance. "For years, he specialized in the study and utilization of various forms of energy. He had a particular interest in gamma rays, a form of radiation that is deadly even in small doses, yet Banner felt certain he could harness the power for beneficial purposes.

"Unfortunately, one of his experiments went badly wrong. His body was flooded with gamma rays. Incredibly, he survived, but he was _changed_. If Bruce Banner becomes angry, he transforms into...into..." The Beast held out his hands, lost for words.

Logan explained, "Banner turns into an eight-foot tall, 800-pound dynamo of raw destruction! They call him the _Hulk_, and he's pretty much unstoppable! I fought Hulk once, 'bout ten years ago. I was hackin' away like a madman with _these_!" Wolverine extended the wickedly sharp adamantium claws from one of his hands. "I can slice a battle tank into scrap metal, but I couldn't put a scratch in the Hulk's hide!"

"Sounds rather like one of our trolls," Dumbledore supposed. "Although they aren't nearly so rugged."

"I never met a troll," said Logan, "but 'less they can leap canyons and pry up buildings, they ain't even in the same league as the Hulk."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"The Hulk is an extremely powerful creature," Xavier concurred. "I can only assume that if Voldemort is holding Banner, he has found some way to control him. Should that control fail, the Hulk could wreak havoc on a densely populated country such as England."

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "This news changes things. I had been putting together a party to rescue Dr Banner, thinking that a small group of trustworthy wizards would be sufficient. To my knowledge, there are only a dozen or so Death Eaters at the Keep and no sign of Voldemort, as yet. It now seems a larger force will be needed."

"With respect, Professor," said Logan, "you'd need every one of those Auror dudes, every one you got, just to slow ol' greenskin down."

Xavier reached a decision. "Albus, the Hulk is the kind of menace I created the X-Men to defend against. You and I agreed some time ago that we would not intervene in the internal affairs of each other's communities, short of imminent disaster. Personal and cultural exchanges are one thing, but fighting each other's battles would only complicate matters for us all.

"In this case, I feel that I should send the X-Men to assist you. At the very least, they can bring Dr. Banner safely home. At worst, they could be of considerable help in containing the Hulk."

"This is most kind of you, Charles. I accept your suggestion. Now I must return to Hogwarts at once to assemble my people. Do you wish me to create a Portkey?"

"That won't be necessary. Our aircraft can reach the UK in less than two hours. I need that time to brief my team. But, there is one thing more I must ask before you leave: What is this Labyrinth into which Harry and his friends have ventured? My students are understandably anxious about them."

"Just so," said Dumbledore. "The Labyrinth was once the way in which young wizards were tested for competence, valour and virtue. But the djinn that controls it, Amagor, became powerful and irascible. After a near-disaster in the Fourteenth Century, the Labyrinth was sealed.

"The entrance is in a chapel, about a mile from the residence of the Weasley family. Once opened, the Labyrinth will remain so for three days, but no person over the age of eighteen can enter it. I have had Arthur Weasley place a Barrier charm around the chapel to prevent Muggle holiday-makers from going inside.

"Beyond that, we must place our faith in the abilities of Harry and the others. I cannot in all conscience send more students in after him. I am seeking a magical way to extract them; in the past, there were methods to permit the rescue of students in difficulty, and some of these means still may exist. At best, Harry may succeed without assistance. I have never found it wise to underestimate young Potter."

"I see. I'm afraid that Kitty may not share your optimism."

"Please try to reassure Miss Pryde that we are doing all we can at the moment. Now, I really must go. Mr Summers, I will meet you and your team at Hogwarts in a few hours."

Dumbledore left as he had arrived, Disapparating with another thunderclap. "And they complain about the sound _I_ make teleporting!" muttered Nightcrawler.

Cyclops turned to Xavier. "Orders, Professor?"

"Your primary task is to bring Dr. Banner back home or to contain the Hulk. You should avoid becoming involved in combat between Albus' people and Voldemort's, if at all possible. Feel free to offer your advice in the planning stage, however."

"Rules of engagement?"

"You may defend yourselves, of course. I would prefer you not to participate in any battle. This said, you are the field commander of the X-Men. In the final analysis, you must act as your tactical sense and personal integrity dictate. You have my complete confidence, Scott."

Cyclops nodded. "Hank, Logan, go prep the plane. The rest of us better suit up."

A pounding on the door interrupted Scott. Before Xavier could speak, in burst Marie and the rest of her team. They gathered in front of Xavier's desk.

"So, Professor," Marie said eagerly, "when do we leave?"

"Leave?"

"To go help Hawk, Charm and Hunter."

"Marie, Professor Dumbledore is doing everything possible..."

"Good, but that doesn't get us off the hook. There are X-Men in trouble, Professor, we have to go help!"

Support for her argument came from an unexpected direction. Scott said suddenly, "Marie's right, Charles."

Charles Xavier studied Scott Summers. He had been Xavier's first student and the older man regarded him as a son. It was rare for Scott to unbend sufficiently to use his mentor's given name.

What are you saying, Scott?"

"I told those kids at the farewell dance in the spring that we'd always be there for them. Please, Charles, don't make a liar out of me!"

Xavier threw up his hands, conceding defeat. "Very well. Havok has the location of the last signal. The Weasley home is nearby; you can start your search there, Rogue. Drop them on your way to Hogwarts, Storm. Logan, brief Rogue and her team on what Albus told us about this Labyrinth. All of you - be careful!"

Behind the visor, it was impossible to see Cyclops wink, but from the quick grin he gave her, Marie knew he had!

**Chapter 3: Into the Labyrinth**

The others waited patiently until Harry had finished his telepathic conversation with Professor Xavier. He explained to them what was happening, concluding, "So, Dumbledore will know we're in here, soon. If there's any way to get us out, he'll find it! The best thing we can do is to wait here."

It seemed, however, that the Labyrinth, or whoever controlled it, had other ideas. The ceiling of the chamber they were in began to descend again after a few minutes. At the same time, the door into the Labyrinth proper swung wide. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny ran back to the element symbols, only to discover that they, and the circle with the marks, had vanished.

"Obviously, we're not meant to hang around here," said Hermione.

"Oh, Hell," groaned Harry, "everybody out."

They retreated to a wide, well-lit corridor, moving into the formation Harry had suggested earlier. The door closed behind them with a firm thud. Seamus tried it and found it locked. As he pressed his ear to the panels, he heard the rumble as the ceiling returned to its original height. _Lying in wait for the next batch, _Seamus thought grimly.

The corridor twisted and curved for no apparent reason, and Harry soon discovered that it was almost impossible to remain in visual range of both Hermione and Neville in front and Ron and Seamus behind. The passage also had an odd echo that didn't affect conversation, but made it hard to understand a shout. Thankfully, the communicators seemed to work properly, so the three parts of the group could keep in touch.

As Harry walked along beside Ginny, the cold anger that had driven him this far drained away, replaced by a familiar but unpleasant sensation. Once again, his life had been hijacked and sent in a direction he hadn't wanted. Worse, people he cared about were going into danger with him. If any of his friends were to be hurt or, God forbid, killed in this Labyrinth, Harry didn't know what he would do. It would be his fault, again!

Dumbledore, Lupin, Hermione, Ron, Kitty, Xavier, Ginny and Molly Weasley (whom Harry had finally realised loved _him_ as much as any of her own kids), had all tried to persuade him that he couldn't shoulder every burden. Patiently, practically, lovingly or even angrily, each of them had argued that Harry was _not _responsible for the death of Cedric Diggory or the loss of Sirius Black.

Harry knew better. Both times, he had been where he should not have been. He should have refused to participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament even if it meant leaving Hogwarts in shame. If he had not been there, Voldemort's plot would have been dead in the water, and Cedric would not have been killed. And Harry shouldn't have allowed himself to be manipulated into going to the Ministry of Magic a year ago. If he hadn't been so reckless, Sirius wouldn't have come to rescue him only to be lost beyond the Veil. Those choices--and the dire results--were Harry's fault, and his alone.

Now Voldemort had reached out and placed his cold hands on the one thing that still mattered to Harry. With no family or home, all Harry had were his friends--and Voldemort knew it. Once again, Harry was tempted to cut himself off from everyone, to go far away and never return.

But then he felt Ginny's arm tighten around him, and he became acutely aware of her body against his--her warmth, her softness and strength, her honeysuckle fragrance. How could he leave her, when they had only just found each other?

Ginny looked up into his face. "Don't, Harry."

"Don't what?"

"Run away. Go off and leave us all, or start to pretend you don't care, again. You were thinking it so loud I could almost hear you."

"How did you...?"

"I may not be a Legilimens, Harry, or a tele-whosit like Professor Xavier, but with you, I don't need to be. Not a day's gone by in the last five years when I haven't thought of you. I've watched you--_learned_ you. Every line of your face, every look in your eye-every little movement: I know what you're thinking, Harry Potter!

"Look, if you try to flee, Voldemort will still come after you. How d'you think we'd feel, knowing you were facing him all by yourself with none of us there to help?

"But you won't go, Harry. I was dying once, until _you_ came for me. You fought a monster, defeated a dark wizard--all for a little girl you'd barely noticed. The hero I worshipped then and the Harry I love now could never walk away from his friends."

Harry sighed, trying to frame a reply, when Hermione shrieked. There was a whirring, flapping sound, and the corridor was suddenly pitched into chaos. A cloud of dark..._things_ squeaked and flew in dizzying zigzags. The air filled with a sour, musty smell and the yells and screams of the youngsters as they tried to fight the unknown assault.

Harry's glasses were knocked off-he couldn't tell by whom-and he dropped to his hands and knees, desperate to retrieve them before they were crushed. Then Ginny stumbled onto him; she wasn't big, but her seven stone was quite enough to knock the wind out of the unprepared Harry. He lay there gasping as the chittering sounds died away and the corridor fell silent.

He took stock of the situation. The Patil sisters were still hugging the wall, hands covering their faces. Seamus, who had been ducking and dodging the swarm, righted himself. Neville headed back to the group, supporting an obviously shaken Hermione. Luna held her wand up in front of her, blue fire flaring from the tip. "Bats!" she said thoughtfully. "It was just a bunch of bats. We should have expected them in a place like this."

Ron lay flat on his face a few feet away.

Harry sprang to Ron's side, remembering to breathe when his brawny friend rolled over and sat up. Ron looked dazed and his nose was bloody, but apart from that, he seemed OK. He gave Harry a rueful grin.

"Ouch! Fell over my own feet," Ron said sheepishly as he heaved himself upright.

Harry helped Ginny to stand. Ginny promptly put her arms around Harry's waist, asking, "Did I hurt you? Where did I land on you?"

"Pretty much everywhere, feels like," Harry admitted.

"Oh, good!" Ginny said impishly, eyes sparkling. She whispered, "Later, I can kiss it all better..."

Frowning with concern, Parvati went up to Ron. "Oh, your poor face! Here, let me..." She began fishing in a pocket for a tissue. Ron went crimson and stepped back a pace. "No, it's OK. I'm fine."

"_Ron!_ You're hurt!" Hermione realised. She had recovered sufficiently to dash over to her boyfriend, who turned to her with evident relief. "It's nothing, love. I went a bit of a purler and smacked myself on the conk."

"Kneel down!" Hermione ordered. "I can't stretch all the way up there."

Obediently, Ron dropped to one knee in front of her. "While I'm down here, I might as well ask: Will you marry me?"

"Of course I'm going to marry you, Ronald, but not right now," Hermione responded practically. "Spit on this. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?" she fretted as she swabbed the blood off his face.

Luna noticed that Parvati was watching the pair with a slightly hurt and wistful expression in her dark eyes. Then Hermione, over Ron's shoulder, shot Parvati a look that came straight off the Polar ice cap.

_So that's the way the land lies, is it?_ thought Luna. _I admire your taste, Parvati, but your timing is dreadful!_

Harry noticed something different. He was thinking what a Jekyll-and-Hyde character Hermione had become. Most of the time, she was the Hermione Granger they had known for years--a bossy know-it-all with the _really_ annoying habit of being right more often than she was wrong. This Hermione was reserved, almost prim; she held Ron's arm or hand decorously when they walked together in public, giving him no more than the lightest peck on the cheek-though she ordered him about something terrible.

But, when there were just the four of them, another Hermione appeared. That Hermione was a tactile young woman, snuggly with Ron and affectionate to Harry and Ginny. Hermione's strident tones turned low and sweet, though she was also prone to making saucy, if not positively raunchy, comments and wisecracks.

Harry supposed everyone had a public and a private face-except Ginny, perhaps.

Neville, standing with his arms round Lavender, suddenly snorted with laughter. "Look at us! What a bunch of heroes! We can beat back raiding parties, rescue kids from enchanted forests, fight ten-foot metal men and rogue Mutants. But show us a flock of common bats, and we go all to pieces!"

The reaction was setting in now, so the hearty, if self-deprecating, laughter helped them get over it. When they had all settled down a little, they continued moving along the passageway, sticking together. "Fancy deployments are all very well when you know what you're up against," said Harry, "but I feel a lot better knowing you're all where I can see you."

Neville pointed out, "More like _you_ being where _we_ can see you. You're the one with the habit of getting into trouble, Harry."

Harry glared at his friend-he hadn't needed that reminder-but Neville just grinned disarmingly.

Lavender shook her head. "What this born diplomat of mine _means_, Harry, is that you're given to dashing off on your own into dangerous situations." She gave him a fierce glance, her eyes wet for some reason. "Have you never thought about how much that upsets us all? You're our friend, Harry, and we want to help. Try letting us, for once?"

Harry looked away. Hermione had said something similar to him at Xavier's. How come they could make him feel like a selfish idiot for trying to do the right thing? Maybe it wasn't the right thing. _There_ was a new thought!

The corridor ended abruptly in a stone wall with an ordinary-looking wooden door. For some reason, this made them all more apprehensive than a more forbidding barrier would have.

"I don't like that door one bit!" stated Padma.

"Don't think any of us do, but the only way out is through," said Harry. "I'll take a look. Ron, Neville, cover me."

"If he kicks that door open and dives through it, I swear I'll kill him myself!" whispered Hermione to Ginny.

Harry might or might not have heard her, but he didn't kick the door. Ron and Neville took up positions on either side of it, wands ready. Harry inched open the door, then listened for a second, before pushing it wide. The room beyond was lit with a warm, yellow glow. Harry moved in cautiously, looking around him.

The room was large and square, with panelled walls. Along one wall were wooden tables and benches, like those in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The opposite wall held about a dozen curtained alcoves; the curtains were drawn back, showing that each alcove held a four-poster bed. What was this place?

Turning back to the door, Harry motioned his friends forward. "It's OK, for now--I think."

The others trooped in and stood looking about curiously. As they did so, there was a loud _pop_, and a small figure appeared in their midst. It was a House-Elf, a rather elderly and plump House-Elf wearing what seemed to be a yellow tabard. The creature looked at them, then focused on Harry and bowed low.

"Tully, young sir, servant to the great Lady Hufflepuff. Welcome to Sanctuary!"

"Sanctuary?" Harry repeated.

"Sanctuary, sir. The Labyrinth is testing and wearying. The Lady Hufflepuff herself decreed Sanctuary as a place where the young sirs and ladies might rest and eat. Tully looks after Sanctuary, young sir. The room knew you were weary, so it led you here. Tully will provide food, and then you may sleep safely."

Hermione pressed forward. "Lady Hufflepuff? _Helga_ Hufflepuff? Tully, how long have you been here?"

"Tully does not know, young lady. Tully sleeps unless there are young sirs and ladies being tested in the Labyrinth."

"So, I was right! This _is_ where young Wizards were tested," Hermione gloated.

"Yeah, yeah, Hermione," Harry said shortly, focusing on the House-Elf. "Tully, can you tell us about the rest of the Labyrinth? Specifically, do you know the quickest and safest way out?"

The House-Elf shook his head sadly. "Tully does not know, young sir. Tully is not permitted to leave Sanctuary.

"Here, now, is food!" he gestured, and suddenly the tables were laden. He pointed toward the far wall, where Harry now saw two more doors. "The appointments are there, so you may wash, and then sleep.

"When the first bell sounds, you must rouse. At the second bell, break your fast. At the third, you must leave Sanctuary.

"Tully will not see you again unless you must pass another night in the Labyrinth. Rest well, and good fortune for the morrow!" He vanished with another _pop_.

Harry turned to his friends. "Well? What do you think?"

"House Elves can't lie," Lavender pointed out. "We're safe here for a while. We might as well eat and sleep. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving and tired, and I could _really_ do with spending a penny!"

There was general agreement, so it was decided to stay put for now, and to try to rest. The boys, led by Ron, advanced on the tables while most of the girls, with Lavender in front, headed toward the washrooms.

As the others moved off, Harry caught Hermione's arm, saying, "I'm sorry I snapped at you just then. I'm a bit tense and knackered."

Hermione smiled. "Harry, a year ago, it would never have occurred to you to apologise like that." She looked around; no one was watching, so she hugged him quickly. "We're all under pressure. Don't worry about it."

The food was plain but wholesome as anything at Hogwarts, and there was even enough to satisfy Ron! They all felt a good deal better after eating.

Just as Harry came out of the washroom, a familiar 'voice' sounded in his head. He stood still, frowning with concentration.

_Hawk?_

_Professor X?_

_Good. Now listen closely, Harry. I have informed Professor Dumbledore of your situation. It seems you are trapped in an ancient testing ground for young Wizards._

_Yes, we found that out._

_Ah. Well, Albus is researching ways to extract you and your friends. What has happened since we last spoke?_

Harry and the Professor exchanged information. With a final admonition to be careful, Xavier severed the link.

Hermione watched Harry come out of his trance, asking, "You were hearing the Professor? Well? What did he have to say?"

"He told me that Dumbledore is looking for a way to get us out," Harry revealed. "I don't know if this is good or bad news, but it seems that we might have company in here; Rogue and her team are coming after us."

Neville grinned. "Now, why am I not surprised?"

Most of the others were delighted to hear that their brave and formidable American friends were on their way. Harry had mixed feelings--there would be more people in danger because of him--but he was nonetheless touched by the loyalty of the young Mutants. He shrugged, knowing Marie well enough to realise she was too much like him _not_ to come running.

By now, they had all begun to feel sleepy, so by mutual consent, they headed off to bed. Seamus noted with quiet amusement that, while he, Luna and the Patils took one bed each, Neville and Lavender clearly intended to share one, as did Ron and Hermione.

Harry stayed at the table. He needed to think about tomorrow. Then he felt Ginny's presence behind him. She looped her arms round his neck and nuzzled his ear. "Come to bed. You won't accomplish anything, you know; you'll just sit and brood!"

He sighed, she was right, of course-she knew him so well! He got up, and let her lead him firmly to a bed next the one Ron and Hermione were using. As they passed, they heard Ron saying, "'Night, pet. Love you." There was the sound of a soft kiss and Hermione's sleepy voice replying, "Love you too, darling. Sleep tight."

Ginny chuckled. "They sound like an old married couple!"

They drew the curtain across the alcove and undressed to their underwear, then slipped into the bed. Harry said, "This'll be the first time we've actually slept together, Ginny. Sorry it's not what we planned..."

They had not yet made love properly, agreeing to wait until Ginny's sixteenth birthday, a few days from now. That had not stopped them from indulging as frequently as possible in prolonged and erotic love-play.

Ginny leaned over Harry asking, "Want to mess about a bit?"

"Oh, not tonight, love. I'm too tired and not really in the mood."

"Now _we _sound like an old married couple," Ginny mused, but she kissed Harry goodnight resignedly and snuggled down against him, wrapping his arms around her. Soon, her soft breathing told him she was asleep.

Harry lay awake a while, thinking, not about tomorrow, but about Ginny. Paradoxically, it had been Kitty who had awakened his feelings for Ginny. He had loved Kitty (still did, in a way), and she had aroused emotions in him he had never had the chance or the courage to face before. To his shock, a lot of those emotions centred around his best friend's sister. Harry had become aware of Ginny in a new way ever since she had started to date other boys; she was no longer the little girl who had so embarrassed him with her hero-worship.

Harry knew that Ginny, too, had changed while he was in America. Her transformation had something to do with another exchange student, the X-Man Peter Rasputin, with whom Ginny had had a brief romance.

When Harry returned to Hogwarts a week before the end of the spring term, he noticed a distinct difference in Ginny's attitude toward him. They were friends, but the friendship was more intense. Without realising it, they began to spend more time together. Came the Easter holiday, and Molly had insisted that Harry visit The Burrow. Ron was going to the Grangers, and somebody had to keep Ginny company. Besides, as far as Molly was concerned, Harry was family, and belonged at home with them.

Harry and Ginny had spent the break doing household chores, gardening and taking long walks in the countryside. It had been a lovely spring, the prelude to a glorious summer. One evening, Harry and Ginny walked to the top of a nearby hill and stood looking out over the country. Ginny sighed, and Harry turned to look at her. The westering sun caught her hair, causing it to blaze, and an errant breeze carried her scent of honeysuckle to him. At that moment, she was utterly precious and adorable.

She felt his gaze on her, and turned to look at him, her eyes darkly luminous.

A strand of hair blew across her face, and Harry reached out to stroke it away, then, unable to stop himself, he cupped her silky cheek in his palm. Her eyes glowed even more, as she pressed her face against his hand. She spoke softly. "Harry, if we start something, we have to see it through. This isn't just another fling for me, not with you. Promise me?"

"I promise," he breathed. "I'm yours for as long as you want me, Ginny."

She smiled then, and reached her arms out to him. He came to her, and sought her coral lips. The kisses seemed to go on forever as the sun sank below the horizon. They went back to The Burrow, arms around each other, as the stars were coming out. Molly looked at them, and didn't scold. She just put together a tray of sandwiches and tea, and left them alone in the living room. They went to bed late that night, and had been together ever since.

With those pleasant thoughts in his head, Harry drifted off to sleep.

A few beds away, Seamus listened with wry envy to the soft murmurs and smothered gasps that came from Neville and Lavender's bed. _Well, they've not seen each other for a week or so,_ he thought. Then he turned over and went to sleep.

It couldn't have been three hours, Molly thought, since Minerva McGonagall had Flooed into The Burrow, waking her and Arthur from a deep sleep. The children had disappeared, gone off into trouble once again. She glanced at her clock - she had recently had extra hands fitted for Harry and Hermione-theirs, Ron's and Ginny's all pointed to MORTAL DANGER! Minerva had explained that, while they had been unable to leave a message, they had somehow managed to contact the Professor who ran the school in America.

Arthur left with Minerva. He had been due to go to Hogwarts anyway on some job for the Order, he wouldn't tell Molly what. Molly had wandered through the lonely house, unable to settle to anything.

Finally driven to distraction by an endless succession of mournful female voices emanating from the music machine, Molly had screwed her courage to the sticking point and approached the Muggle device. Fortunately, it seemed that Muggles had the habit of labelling each switch. _Stop_ was easy. _Eject_ followed, once she realised what it meant (she'd been expecting something to fly out, not just lift a lid). Molly had carefully plucked out the little silver disc and put it back into its brightly coloured case. That done, Molly sat about and worried some more, until Arthur's head appeared in the hearth.

"Molly?"

She knelt before the fireplace. "What is it, dear?"

"Listen, Dumbledore has had another talk with Professor Xavier. It seems that some friends the kids made in America are bound and determined to come over here to help look for them. The Americans should arrive in a Muggle aeroplane in a few hours. Can you look after the newcomers and take them to the ruin?"

"Well, I can, but do you think I should? I mean, put more kids in danger?"

"These aren't ordinary kids, Molly. In their way, they're as powerful as any Wizard. Minerva says so; even Severus Snape agrees. Anyway, if you don't help, they'll only go themselves. I'm not sure if the Barrier Charm can stop kids like these, so you might as well take them through it.

"Look, Molly, love, there's safety in numbers. There's nobody of the right age _we_ can send, and these American youngsters want to go. Just help them, for _our _kids' sakes, all right?"

In the end, Molly agreed. She stood outside the house, looking over a nearby meadow and waiting. She squinted at the sky. It was odd--the morning mist should be burning off by now; instead, it seemed to be thickening, forming into an actual fog. Something wasn't right. Molly took a firmer grip of her wand.

It began as a low thrumming, felt in the chest rather than heard, but quickly growing to a roar, then to a deafening scream. A great, black shape dropped out of the fog to land in the meadow.

Molly knew what it was. She had seen Muggle aircraft--huge, silvery things--flying over London. She had always envisioned them carrying excited Muggle families to exotic holidays, and so thought of them in a friendly sort of way.

This one was not friendly. From its needle nose, down the sleek, matte-black body to the gracefully backswept wings, what was setting down near her home was an avian predator equal to any dragon!

Fascinated, Molly watched wheeled struts extend from the underbelly of the thing before it came to rest in the meadow. The scream died to a hissing throb. A ramp fell down from the rear of the plane, and about a dozen figures streamed out, quickly putting some distance between themselves and their vehicle. The ramp closed up, the throb became a scream again, and the black aircraft lifted off, disappearing back into the fog. The former passengers watched it leave. Molly watched them.

One of the new arrivals spotted her and pointed her out to the rest. They approached her in a group. They were teenagers, she saw, dressed like young Muggles on a walking holiday, each carrying a haversack.

Molly studied the throng more closely. There were five girls and five boys. Two of the girls were tall, one with dark-brown hair, the other a strawberry blonde. There was another medium-sized girl, very dark, with coppery skin, then two smaller, slighter ones, one auburn-haired, the other a redhead. Three of the boys were of medium height and compact build, one sandy-haired, one dark and olive-skinned, the third clearly Oriental. Then there was a tallish, gangling youth with short-cropped fair hair, and finally a dark-haired young giant who towered over his companions.

The tall, dark-haired girl stepped up to her. Molly now saw the streak of pure white in the girl's hair, and met the direct, grey eyes with a smile. The girl extended a gloved hand and spoke with a pretty accent. "Mrs. Weasley? Mrs. _Molly_ Weasley? We've come to help look for our friends. My name's Marie D'Ancanto. People call me _Rogue_."

In minutes, The Burrow was once again full of young people, making Molly feel better. One way or another, she had heard a lot about these youngsters, and was anxious to get to know them better. As she passed out tea and toast (and bacon and sausages and eggs) she chattered brightly, trying to draw them out. "Here you are, Sam, is it? You're _Cannonball_, aren't you? So that means this pretty little thing must be Rahne, er, _Wolfsbane_, if Ron told me right. He thinks such a lot of both of you!"

"Yes, ma'am. Ron's a real pal," said Sam politely. Rahne graced her with a shy smile.

Molly moved on. "Have another sausage, Roberto. Now, you're the one they call _Sunspot_, aren't you? The young man who taught Harry all those dangerous tricks on that skateboard thingy? And that makes _you_ Danielle--_Psyche_, yes?"

Roberto rose from his seat at table, reached for Molly's hand and kissed it lightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Senhora Weasley," he said.

Dani shook her head and grinned at Molly's surprise. "Watch yourself, Mrs. Weasley. Roberto's slick as they come. He was stealing hearts when other kids were swiping cookies."

Molly smiled. "Go on with you! Help yourself to more tea, Peter. I can see now why they call you _Colossus_. Give Kitty the butter, then pass the toast across to Bob, there."

Molly paused, tilting her head, finger to cheek. "Now, you two I've not seen or heard of before. Are you new to the school?"

"New to the team, not the school," said the strawberry blonde, a strikingly pretty girl with large, blue eyes. "I'm Alison Blair; they call me _Dazzler_. That's what I do, dazzle people." She held out her hand, palm up, and a small globe of light appeared in it, flashing though a dozen different colours before it vanished. "My body turns sound into light," Alison disclosed.

The Oriental young man rose from his seat and bowed formally to Molly. "I am Shiro Yoshida, also called _Sunfire_. It is an honour to meet you. I believed that the mother of such a warrior as Ronald-san must be a lady of stature, and I was correct in that belief."

At Molly's urging, Shiro went on to explain his Mutant ability to produce bolts of superheated plasma. This power also allowed him to generate a force field around his body, and to fly. It was all very strange to Molly!

Then Rogue said, "Professor X told us that Harry and the others have found a safe place to rest up for a few hours, so we'd better do the same. We all caught some sleep on the flight over, but we'll be better for more sack time before we go to this Labyrinth. You guys sort out places to crash; I'll help Mrs. Weasley clean up."

That decision proved to be something of a mistake on Marie's part. The homely kitchen of The Burrow didn't _look_ like her Mom's place, but it _felt_ like it. It had been over two years since Marie had fled her parent's house to escape their unspoken fear of her, an action that led to her fateful encounter with Wolverine. For all this time, Marie had managed to hold the memories, the sense of loss, at bay. But being here suddenly brought it all back. Without warning, Marie found herself sitting at the kitchen table, face buried in her hands, weeping bitterly.

Molly sat down beside Marie, gathering the sobbing young woman into her arms and holding her till the storm had passed. Marie recovered and began to stammer an apology, but Molly shushed her. "It's all right, my dear. We all have things that touch us, sometimes. Just remember, Marie, whatever happens, you'll always be welcome here."

When Molly gently kissed her forehead, Marie's power flickered enough to give her a sense of this woman. Molly Weasley had enough love in her heart for all the world. Comforted by that knowledge, Marie allowed herself to be led into the living room and settled on the couch. "Go to sleep, now, my dear. Let tomorrow take care of itself."

Sanctuary had let the young Wizards sleep on until they all felt rested. As Tully had said, a single bell roused them, giving them enough time to wash and dress before ringing again to summon them to a simple but ample breakfast. Now the third bell rang, and the door to Sanctuary swung open.

"OK," said Harry. "We don't have a clue what we're going to run into out there, so that's pretty much life as we know it! Take care, stick together, and watch each other's backs. Good luck, everyone."

With Harry and Neville in the lead, the group filed through the door. The first surprise was that the corridor had vanished. Instead of a narrow passageway, they found themselves in a large, circular, stone chamber with no visible exits. As they looked around, the door to Sanctuary closed behind them, fading into unblemished stone.

Ron scratched his head. "At the moment, it looks as if we're not going anywhere very fast."

"There has to be a way out," said Harry. "The test must be to find it. Right, everybody inspect the walls."

"_Except_ Luna, Hermione and Padma," put in Neville. In answer to enquiring looks, he explained, "You three can do what you do best-think through the problem in case it's more complicated than a hidden door. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm cool with that," Harry agreed.

Lavender murmured to Ginny, "One of these days, you're going to have to teach him to speak English, again."

"Well, _duh,_" quipped Ginny, drawing out the last word in a dreadful parody of an American accent. Lavender rolled her eyes. She knew what Ginny saw in their darkly handsome Housemate, but it was a mystery to Lavender what withdrawn and quiet Harry saw in irrepressible Ginny. _Oh, well, everything for the best,_ Lavender concluded, realising no one would have paired her with Neville a year ago.

Quite suddenly, Harry saw his friend's forms begin to shimmer and waver; from their expressions of shock, he guessed the same was happening to him. He felt a swirl of teleportation and then found himself in a narrow, rough-hewn tunnel. An ominous rumbling made him turn, alerting him to a large boulder beginning to roll down a steep slope toward him.

"Bloody Hell," Harry breathed, before he began to run.

Molly stood outside the ruin and looked anxiously at the young people she had guided here. They were in the process of undressing, or at least shedding their outer garments to reveal the form-fitting, black leather uniforms they had put on before leaving The Burrow. She felt obliged to make one last attempt to dissuade them. "My dears, are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

Surprisingly, it was Bob who answered her, coming over and taking both of her hands in his. "Mrs. Weasley, our friends are there, and they're in trouble. We owe them our help, as people and as members of a team or a House. Above all, Mutants have so few friends in the world that we can't afford--and don't want--to lose any of them!

"Anyway, we're _trained_ for this. Believe me, we can handle ourselves, and once we join up with Harry and the rest, there's nothing we can't take on, together."

Molly sighed, contenting herself with giving each of them one last hug. Most responded warmly, though Sam and Shiro were somewhat embarrassed by the display of affection. Then, with Marie in the lead, the group entered the ruin, and vanished.

Marie knew the feel of a Portkey, but was still unnerved to find herself in pitch darkness. "We could use some light," she called.

"Working on it!" Alison's voice responded.

Dazzler had practised until she could operate the small control panel mounted on her wrist by touch alone. The unit controlled a generator that fed sonic energy through the special circuitry Beast had built into her uniform. The generator provided her with a constantly available alternative to ambient sound as a source for her power. Within moments, a bright glow surrounded her body and expanded to illuminate a large chamber with carved walls and floor.

Rogue looked around, hearing stone scraping against stone. "Oh, crap!" she exclaimed, as the ceiling began to descend.

**Chapter 4: Tactics and Manoeuvres**

Logan was the only adult X-Man to have seen the Great Hall at Hogwarts. He had dined here once at the invitation of Severus Snape. Then, the Hall had been full of noisy, chattering kids. The Hall was different, now; the ceiling still reflected the cloudless summer sky outside, but the house benches and tables were gone. Instead, a single, large table dominated the centre of the room, while another along a side wall held a light buffet.

Logan went to get coffee. The X-Men had arrived earlier this morning, their aircraft escorted by two wizards flying on brooms to what he had learned was the Quidditch Pitch. There, a bemused-looking, eight-foot-tall man had promised to take care of the custom-built Stealth plane for them (he had asked them if it needed feeding). They had proceeded to the Hall for quick introductions and being assigned to quarters - the Hufflepuff dormitory, apparently-for a couple hours' sleep before this mid-morning briefing. His teammates were already there, so Logan took the opportunity to observe the wizards as they arrived.

First to come in were four redheaded men who had hardly needed introducing to Wolverine; they all looked, and smelled, too much like Hunter to be anyone other than Weasleys.

Arthur was the dad, of course; Logan had seen hundreds like him, ordinary family men who had decided they must put themselves on the line for the sake of their friends and families and the things they believed in. _When the chips are down,_ _I'd sooner have one Arthur Weasley than a dozen Rambos, _thought Logan. The twins Fred and George were a wiry, feisty, scrappy pair-give Logan two months in the Danger Room with those kids, and they'd be lethal.

Then there was the eldest son, Bill. Logan could tell at a glance that he'd been where things were down, dirty and dangerous more than once. There was a measuring stare in his eye, and his frame was sparse and hard, stripped down to bone and steel-wire sinew.

After the Weasleys came a group of black-robed figures he had been told were Aurors. Aurors, Wolverine knew, were Wizarding police - not so much beat cops or detectives, more like SWAT teams. The senior guy was a black man called Shacklebolt, experienced and solid, as were the others: Harris, Parker, Knowles and Simmonds. There were only two standouts in the group.

One of them was a grizzled veteran whom they called "Mad-Eye" Moody. That wasn't just a nickname. One of his eyes, clearly artificial, constantly moved, rolling and swivelling in its socket as if searching everywhere at once. Wolverine suspected that the eye was a magical one, and saw things other eyes didn't see. The man's natural eye was dark, fiery and intense. He observed the X-Men with equal degrees of approval and suspicion. _A good man_, Wolverine thought, _but it'll be hard to earn his trust._

The other Auror worthy of remark was a lovely, slender, agile young woman who had introduced herself as "Tonks". She wore the standard black robe, of course, but with a certain casual _élan_, and her hair was bright scarlet, done in a kind of spiky, punk style that flattered her striking features. _That one's a maverick,_ Logan figured. _She'll get the job done, but for her, rules are something that apply to other people_. He knew all about that--if Logan had ever had a middle name, it would have been _Maverick_.

Tonks stepped past him now with a brief but friendly smile, and made a beeline for Bill Weasley, who moved away from his father and brothers to greet her. There was nothing untoward in the way they said hello, or in Bill's insistence on getting coffee for the young Auror--on the surface of it. Surfaces, however, meant little or nothing to Wolverine, and the couple's interaction merely confirmed what his eyes (and nose) had told him earlier that morning; there was serious sparkage going on between those two.

Remus Lupin came in alone. At first glance, he looked haggard and worn, but there was a kind of beaten-down toughness to the man. He'd take a lot of killing, Logan thought. Of course, Lupin had his own special problem; Wolverine knew the scent of werewolf-he'd fought more than one of the creatures in his colourful past. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and, of course, Severus Snape, Logan already knew. It was the last person to enter the Hall that drew his--and everyone else's--attention.

_Here comes trouble for somebody,_ Logan thought. He had thought the same when Dumbledore had introduced the dazzlingly beautiful girl with the silver-white hair to them earlier. "This is Mlle Fleur Delacour, who has kindly volunteered to come along as the mission's Healer. I believe the Muggle term is 'field medic'."

Fleur Delacour had a slim but curvaceous figure, and came down the Hall the way a model sashays down the catwalk. She was wearing distinctly non-Wizard clothing; a skimpy halter top (no bra, Logan figured, from the way things were moving in there), very brief shorts and sandals. Underneath the musky, exotic perfume she wore, Wolverine's animal-keen senses detected a wild bouquet of pheromones. This girl was dynamite.

Fleur was feeling more apprehensive than she hoped she looked as she entered the Hall. She was, quite frankly, feeling out of place here. Fleur had volunteered for this mission in a last-ditch attempt to salvage her foundering relationship with Bill Weasley. She had been immediately attracted to the sophisticated, fashionable, young wizard-about-town. They had flirted, then dated, and finally become lovers.

But there was a side to Bill that Fleur had not known. His work for Gringotts, the Wizarding bank, was merely part of his larger work for the Order of the Phoenix. That meant that there was part of his life he would not share with her. His work also took him away for long periods. All this put a strain on the relationship for both of them.

So when this mission had been mooted, Fleur had volunteered herself as Healer, on the basis that she had some expertise in Potions and Herbs. She had hoped that by participating in this other part of Bill's life, she could revive the relationship. Unfortunately, there had been a fly in the ointment--a fly named Nymphadora Tonks.

Bill and the young Auror had known each other from Hogwarts, of course, but Tonks had been two years below him, so they had never been close. However, when they had encountered each other as adults yesterday, there had been an almost audible click. Fleur could only watch helplessly as the chemistry began to bubble.

She could, she supposed, have gone back to London. But she had volunteered for the mission, and Fleur Delacour was not the kind of woman who went back on her word. Let Monsieur Weasley indulge himself with that tomboyish hoyden if he wished; Fleur would hold her head high and show them all what a _real_ woman could do.

As she approached the group gathered near the buffet table, she could feel their eyes on her. _Bon._ She had made her entrance; they knew she was here to stay. In turn, she scanned them. The wizards she knew, personally or by reputation, but these newcomers, these Americans, these _X-Men_, fascinated her. Fleur was in the same position as a number of the wizards here, in that today was the first time she had ever heard the word _Mutant_. They were not wizards, but not Muggles either, she had been told, and friends of Bill's brother Ron, and _his_ famous friend, Harry Potter.

That decided Fleur. She felt she owed Harry Potter a debt for rescuing her beloved younger sister during the tournament. She might never repay that debt in kind, but she was prepared to be a friend to any friend of Harry's.

Fleur was naturally drawn to the one they had called _Storm_. Normally, the American's stunning looks would have made them rivals, but Storm's flowing mane of silver-white hair convinced Fleur that this Mutant somehow had Veela blood in her ancestry. That made them kinswomen, after a fashion, so it was Storm she approached as the conversation among the group resumed.

"Mlle Monroe, ees eet not?"

Storm turned with a friendly smile, "Please, call me Ororo. You're Fleur, aren't you?"

The two young women were of an age and easily fell to chatting. Fleur had had little contact with Americans, and was pleased to find that they were less reserved than the English. After a few pleasant exchanges, Fleur felt comfortable enough to ask, "Ororo, could you please introduce me again to your friends? I have shame to be so _stupide_, but so many names in so short a time. I am nervous zat I shall offend someone by forgetting zair name, or using ze wrong one."

Ororo laughed. "I know what you mean. I hate facing a whole crowd of people at once. Come with me, Fleur, and meet the X-Men."

This time, Fleur made an effort to absorb and remember the names by linking them to faces. Sean Cassidy was warm and avuncular; bizarre-looking but charming Kurt Wagner bowed floridly over her hand and made her smile. Despite his animal appearance, Henry McCoy was polite and cultured. Logan was also courteous, but laconic-Fleur thought him a little scary, that one. Alex Summers was cheerfully friendly and very handsome. Lorna Dane was also friendly but wary, inching protectively closer to Alex, again making Fleur smile. There was no need--Fleur had never poached a man in her life--she'd never wanted one that was taken.

Then came a moment Fleur had not anticipated. Storm led her to a tall, dark young man who was deep in conversation with the Auror Shacklebolt. "Scott, got a second?" Storm asked him. "Fleur needs a refresher course on our names. So, Fleur Delacour, this is Scott Summers."

Scott said only, "Nice to meet you," giving Fleur a brisk handshake before returning to his conversation with Shacklebolt.

Fleur stood stock-still. She had liked the look of the man from a distance-he was tall, broad-shouldered and moved well. When he had turned to face her, she had been very impressed by his strong features and the generous, expressive mouth. The heavy visor that obscured the upper part of his face intrigued her rather than put her off: _What must his eyes be like?_ His hand had nearly engulfed hers. But all of this was nothing compared to one simple fact: He had barely noticed her. For the first time since she was thirteen years old, a man had looked away from Fleur Delacour without a second glance.

Ororo gently took her arm. "You shouldn't mind Scott; he's all business right now."

"And when ees 'e not 'all business'?"

Storm sighed. "Doesn't happen much these days."

Fleur could tell there was a story there. "'E ees not-'ow you say-gay?"

"Good grief, no. It's just that Scott had a long-term thing going with another member of the team."

"Zey 'ave recently parted?"

Storm shook her head. "No. Jean died, nearly a year ago, now."

"_Quelle tristesse!_ So 'e still mourns?"

"Yes. But for what it's worth, I think it's time he got back in the game."

"Ah. You, Ororo, you do not...?"

"Want him? In that way? No. Perhaps once, a long time ago, I might have. But Jean was too good a friend, and that's what he became." Storm gave Fleur a sudden shrewd glance. "You think he's hot?"

Fleur touched her index finger to her lips. "Per'aps."

Ororo was speaking again. "If you think you can get through to him, I say go for it, girl."

Fleur considered the idea. It was over with Bill; that much was obvious. The Tonks woman was moving in fast, and he was rushing to meet her. There was nothing left but to let go. The young American was handsome, lonely and an interesting challenge. Who knew what lay beneath his armour?

"_Excusez-moi,_" she murmured to Ororo, edging away. It proved easy to catch Bill's eye; it seemed he was looking out for her. The two of them drew a little apart from the others and spoke in low tones.

"Fleur," Bill began, "I feel really awkward about all this. I know you came here to be with me, but it doesn't seem, I mean--"

"You are intrigued by thees Tonks," she finished for him. "I 'ave eyes to see."

Bill had the grace to blush. "It's not as if I were _looking_ for this to happen, Fleur. It's just..."

"Eet ees the fault of no one, _mon cher_. Eet ees simply the fate. You and I, we 'ad our time, and eet was good. Now, we both move on, _n'est-ce-pas_?"

He looked at her for a long moment before realisation dawned. "Somebody's caught _your_ eye as well."

She gave him a cryptic little smile, then reached up and put her hands on his shoulders, kissing him firmly on both cheeks. And that was how they parted. Bill went back to Nymphadora's side, while Fleur headed in the direction of the group that included Scott. _Very cool_, thought Bill. _There is no nastier way to get the push. _

Tonks looked up as Bill rejoined her. "Problems?"

He shrugged. "I've just been dumped."

"Oh." She looked at him anxiously. "Bit of a shock, that."

"Nah. It's been fizzling out between us for a long time. Better to make it official." He paused a moment. "Did you have any plans for tonight, by the way?"

"Me?" Tonks gave him a sudden, impish grin. "Well, I had thought about taking a bottle of wine up to the Astronomy Tower for old time's sake. I thought I'd sit in the moonlight and listen to someone tell tall tales about curse breaking in Egypt. I've got the wine; I don't suppose you know anyone who could provide the stories?"

"There might be a fellow I know. He's a bit rough around the edges, mind, but he's got a good heart." Bill grinned back at her.

"Ah, well, that's the main thing. Isn't there some Muggle song about a good heart being hard to find?"

They drifted over to join the larger group. Cyclops, aided and abetted by Storm and Nightcrawler, was giving an account of how Harry, Ron, Hermione and Kitty Pryde had fought and defeated two Sentinel robots last spring. Unfortunately, Scott was no raconteur, and was inclined to make the story sound like a field report. Ororo and Kurt were constantly interrupting with lively additions.

As they listened, Bill noticed Fleur slip away from the group to fetch herself a peach from the buffet. She insinuated herself back into the ring of listeners at a point directly opposite Scott. As Cyclops looked around the group, Fleur deliberately made eye contact with him as she bit into the peach. Bill almost laughed out loud; whether it was the steady gaze under half-lowered lashes, or the way she moved her mouth over the fruit, he wasn't sure-but that was the sexiest mouthful of peach he'd ever seen taken!

The effect wasn't lost on Scott, who stammered and lost his thread for a moment, then plunged on. A few moments later, he was unable to resist looking toward Fleur again. She was still gazing at him through her lashes, but this time she parted her red lips slightly, to moisten them delicately with a tiny pink tongue. Scott had to clear his throat - twice--before carrying on.

It was at that point that Dumbledore called the briefing to order. As Scott moved off, Fleur followed him with her eyes. _Bien_. He was not, then, immune to womanly charms. But to capture such a man, she must do more than pose seductively; she must earn his respect, also. Fleur was not like these English girls who thought that to be equal to men they must behave like them. Fleur Delacour was all woman, but no fool.

The group gathered round the large table. Dumbledore cast a spell, and a three-dimensional image formed on the tabletop. It was a large, grim-looking structure, like a medieval castle, that stood atop a low but steep hill. The hill in turn stood in a clearing in a forest.

Dumbledore began to speak. "As old records indicate, Salazar's Keep stands some twenty miles east of Hogwarts. You will note that, unlike Muggle structures of the same type, it has no outer walls or palisade. There are, however, magical defences that extend as far out as the tree line. Beyond that, I do not know."

"They'll have patrols out," Cyclops assumed. "That's a safe bet. You'll need to know frequency and strength-routes, as well. Were you planning to go in today?"

Shacklebolt looked uncertain. "We had thoughts about it, but we're Aurors, Mr Summers. We're used to responding to emergencies, _not_ going out launching assaults. Normally, we have a good idea of what's happening before we arrive.

"But now," Shacklebolt conceded, "now we're actually planning an attack, and it's not something we've done before. If there's anything you can tell us that can help, I'm listening."

"OK, then," Scott nodded. "Professor X told me that we could advise and help, up to a point, so let's roll up our sleeves."

"D'you think, Kingsley," growled Moody, "that we should be bringing non-wizards into this? All due respect to you X-Men, or whatever you call yourselves, but we don't know you."

"Professor Dumbledore vouches for them, Moody, and that's enough for me," replied Shacklebolt firmly.

Scott held up a hand. "Look, we're here either to bring Dr. Banner home or to help you deal with his alter ego. We don't intend to get involved in any wizard scuffles. _But_ I see no reason why we can't share our expertise with you--unless you'd rather go it alone."

"I think," said Dumbledore, "that there can be no harm, and perhaps great benefit, in listening to what Mr Summers and his colleagues have to offer in the way of advice. Go ahead, please, Cyclops."

Scott exhaled "Thanks, Professor. Now, how many people does Voldemort (several of the wizards flinched as Scott spoke the name so casually) have in there?"

"A dozen--possibly as many as twenty," replied Simmonds. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doesn't seem to be there."

"Fer cryin' out loud," snarled Logan. "Use the dude's name, will ya? Magneto's given us X-Men as much crap as Voldemort's given you guys, and he's just as dangerous, but we don't call him _He-Who-Wears-the-Dorky-Helmet_!"

Simmonds looked shocked. Snape nodded approvingly across the table at his Canadian friend. Dumbledore said, "I would not express myself quite so...ah...forcibly, as Logan has, but I do concur with his sentiments. By using Voldemort's name, we remind ourselves that he is as human and mortal as the rest of us. Nonetheless we should concentrate on the matter in hand. Scott, you were about to offer a suggestion."

Cyclops looked around the table. "Every Muggle strategist, from Sun Tzu, onwards, has stressed the importance of advance information. Reconnaissance is the most important aspect of any plan, because it's what allows you to _make_ the plan.

"Now, I know you can observe from a distance, by magic, and I'm sure you've had people over-flying the Keep on brooms. But there's no substitute for on-the-ground recon. If you can manage it, you should have some people spy out the area round the Keep. Find out about any patrols or pickets they have out.

"My advice is to spend the rest of today doing that. After you know what's what, you can attack the Keep early tomorrow."

Shacklebolt leaned on his fist. After a moment, he said, "Your ideas make sense. Unfortunately, since this isn't an official case, I could only bring volunteers who are on leave. We don't have an Animagus with us, which would make effecting your plan easy. We _do_ have Tonks, who's a shape-shifter, but she can't cover the whole area thoroughly in the time we have and still be good for tomorrow."

"I can try," Tonks offered.

"Cyke," said Wolverine, "just how far did Charlie say we could go?"

"He didn't lay down any hard and fast rules, Logan, if that's what you're asking. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Wolverine's strong white teeth flashed in his feral grin. "Well, the 'Crawler, Hank and I are three of the sneakiest people I know. There can't be any harm in the three of us goin' out there with Tonks here, and takin' a look-see, can there?"

"Hmm," Scott considered, "if the Hulk breaks out and we have to contain him, it would be handy to know the lay of the land." He came to a characteristically quick decision. "OK, you three go with Miss Tonks. Discreet recon _only_, no contact. That means you, Wolverine. Is that OK with you, Mr. Shacklebolt? Professor?"

Both wizards nodded, rather relieved, it seemed.

After that, things moved quickly. Tonks, with Logan behind her, set off for the Keep by broom followed by the Weasley twins carrying Beast and Nightcrawler.

The rest of the troops stayed in the Great Hall, moving on to another subject of discussion. Moody wanted to know why Xavier had felt it necessary to send the X-Men to Scotland, if they were not to involve themselves in the action.

Scott tried to explain. "It all comes down to how Voldemort, or whoever's in charge at the Keep, is controlling or restraining Banner. I've been told there's something called an Imperious Curse? Now, if Dr. Banner is aware of what's happening to him, he's going to be getting pretty mad. If you take out the guy casting the curse, or break it in some other way, one of two things is gonna happen: Best case, Banner keels over, out cold, or somebody gets lucky enough to put him to sleep before he changes. That way, we can bring him back here, feed him full of potions or something till he calms down, and take him home.

"Worst case, he changes to the Hulk as soon as the curse goes. Then we have to play it by ear."

"Surely," said Parker, "all we need to do is stun this Hulk? Enough of us should be able to render it unconscious."

Snape dismissed this idea. "I doubt that, Mr Parker. During the incident here in the Spring, I saw young Mr Rasputin, in his Colossus form, attacked by a number of wizards. Spells and charms of all descriptions simply bounced off him. I suspect that this Hulk is even more formidable. Am I right, Mr Summers?"

Scott nodded grimly. "Colossus is the strongest X-Man, physically at least, but the Hulk could snap him in two with one hand. There is no known upper limit to the Hulk's power. Our best hope is to lead him into an uninhabited area, then find a way to calm him down. Once his rage subsides, he'll turn back into Banner, and the doctor will at least be cooperative.

"I won't lie to you. There's a chance that we won't be able to restrain the Hulk. But if we do, it'll be because we _all_ work together, wizards and X-Men. We're counting on you as much as we depend on each other."

Moody looked at Scott with approval. "Well said, young fellow. I like a man who knows his limitations and when to ask for help."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Fred and George Weasley in a state of high excitement. The twins were carrying between them a scruffy-looking, unshaven Muggle in a state of near collapse. "We were dropping the scouting party off, a ways from the Keep, when that Wolverine bloke suddenly...sniffed, then told us all to keep down," George explained. "He sort of faded off into the woods-I've never seen anybody move like that-and came back a couple of minutes later carrying this Muggle. This bloke's in and out, but he kept muttering about a castle and 'radiation', so Wolverine told us to bring him back here."

Fleur had gone straight over to the Muggle, and was examining him, "Oh, _le pauvre_!" she exclaimed. "Bring 'im to ze Infirmary at once."

"We need to talk to him," Shacklebolt protested.

"_Bien sûr_, but unless I am treating 'im first, you weel get nothing from 'im."

Shacklebolt reluctantly agreed. "I'll come along. Moody, you take over here. We need to start making plans to assault the Keep."

"I'll come, too," said Scott. "Banshee, can you work with Mr. Moody?"

"Sure, it'll be a pleasure. Be nice to work with another grown man for once, so it will." Sean Cassidy winked at Moody, who responded with a bark of comradely laughter.

Scott had gone to the Infirmary to question the Muggle, but once there, he found himself studying the French woman as she worked over her patient. She had deftly twisted her long hair into a knot at the back of her neck and went about her tasks with equally smooth professionalism. She definitely knew her stuff, he decided, appreciating the easy grace of her movements and the soothing reassurance she gave the injured man. With a sudden stab to his heart, Scott realized Fleur reminded him of Jean.

Fleur could feel the American's eyes on her and knew he was admiring more than her healing technique. She smiled as the Muggle finally settled. He needed to sleep, but he would be able to speak coherently for a short time. She went over to Shacklebolt and Summers, saying, "'E 'as been subjected to the Imperious and Cruciatus curses, and ees starved and weary. You may, for a leetle while, speak with 'im--but only for a leetle time, you understand?"

Shacklebolt went over to the patient. Scott held back. Fleur noticed that he had removed the heavy visor, replacing it with a pair of red-lensed sunglasses that revealed more of his decidedly handsome but sad features. There was a slight hesitation in his voice as he commended her, "Nice job, Miss Delacour."

She favoured him with a full and dazzling smile. "_Merci, _Monsieur Summers."

"Call me Scott--only my students call me Mr. Summers."

Fleur chose that moment to shake out her hair, though she gave Scott another slow smile. "_Comme vous voulez, _Scott. But you must call me Fleur."

"Er, OK, Fleur. I'd better..." He gestured towards the patient.

"A short talk only," she reminded him.

The Muggle, it turned out, was a research student. He had been spending the summer measuring potential changes in background radiation in the area for a Government-backed project. He had stumbled onto the Keep while following up on a slight anomaly in gamma emissions in the area.

Captured by the Death Eaters, he had been taken to Voldemort who had, none too gently, extracted a good deal of information from him, including the name of Dr. Bruce Banner, the Muggle world's greatest expert on gamma rays. Then the unfortunate scientist had been shunted to caves below the Keep and shown something his captors called the Ring of Deadly Light, which proved to be a powerful natural source of gamma radiation.

The patient fell back on his pillow, clearly exhausted. It was at that point that Fleur politely but firmly terminated the interview, giving the Muggle a potion that sent him into a deep, healing sleep.

The Muggle's information had done little more than confirm what they already knew and revealed how Voldemort had heard of Banner. The only important revelation was that the dark wizard himself had been, and might still be, at the Keep.

The rest of the afternoon was spent examining and comparing various plans for storming the Keep, until the scouting party returned in the early evening. Their report was succinct: "Either they're amateurs, or they're relying on the magical stuff, or both," reported Wolverine. "There are no pickets out. They send out a patrol of four, every hour on the hour, that does a 20-minute circuit just inside the tree line. They went past me as close as I am to you, and didn't spot me." Scott felt constrained to point out that that meant very little-Wolverine was, after all, Ninja-trained.

Shacklebolt was more concerned with numbers. Tonks took over the report.

"There are four in the patrol and two more in a hut by the main gate. There are two others inside the main gate, which makes eight. Then they have four on the battlements of the curtain-wall, and another in the top of the tower-that's thirteen. There's a side door which probably has two guards, and, say, another two in the caves to guard this Dr Banner-that comes to seventeen."

"Call it twenty," said Shacklebolt. "There aren't so many Death Eaters that You Know Who, er, _Voldemort_ can raise an army. Most of them keep their allegiance a secret and lead normal lives. If we hit them fast and hard, we should be able to handle twenty. I think the plan we agreed on will still work. I also think I can speak for us all when I say thanks to you, Scott, and Sean here, for your input on this."

By now, they were all ready for dinner. Dumbledore urged them to relax and to enjoy the occasion as the best preparation for a trying next day.

Logan and Snape sat together near the end of the long table, exchanging news about what had gone on since they last spoke. Then Snape jerked his head towards the group halfway up the opposite side of the board. "It would appear, Logan, that more than one campaign is underway here."

Wolverine chuckled as he watched. Ororo and the French girl were sitting side-by-side, apparently deep in conversation, but they had somehow managed to arrange matters so that Fleur was seated next to Scott. It seemed that occasionally subjects arose upon which the two girls felt the need to consult Cyclops; furthermore, by some carelessness of the House-Elves, many of Fleur's favourite dishes had been placed on the table in such a position that Scott had to pass them to her. Her invariable method of attracting his attention was to place an elegant hand on his tanned forearm and leave it there rather longer than Logan felt was strictly necessary. Apparently, Fleur also felt it courteous not to speak too loudly to Scott, in order not to disturb other diners, so she tended to lean close to him and speak softly into his ear. Scott, unused to this kind of attention, was clearly more than a little perplexed. Logan caught Ororo's eye, and she gave him a wink that spoke volumes.

After dinner, the company separated into groups. Knowles, Harris, Parker and Simmonds were heading off to the Three Broomsticks in nearby Hogsmeade. Snape and Logan had the same destination in mind. Arthur Weasley had buttonholed Beast and was peppering him with questions about Muggle science and technology, questions that Hank was fielding amiably. Alex and Lorna were setting out for a stroll through the grounds. The Weasley twins had gone off to visit Hagrid in his hut. Bill and Tonks had already disappeared, chatting animatedly as they had throughout dinner.

Scott looked around. At the far corner of the room, the two veterans, Moody and Banshee, had somehow come by a bottle of Jameson's Irish whiskey, and were settling down to swap stories. Nightcrawler and Lupin were gone; Shacklebolt was deep in conversation with Dumbledore. Scott, Ororo and Fleur were among the last still to be seated at the table. Then Ororo suddenly said, "Professor McGonagall wants to talk with me about something. Fleur, can I leave you to look after Scott?"

"_Mais certainement_, Ororo. Ze grounds 'ere are beautiful. I am sure Scott will not mind joining me for a leetle _promenade_, no? I must go and freshen myself, and check on my patient. Wait 'ere; I weel not be long."

Scott gave Ororo a slightly sour look. "I was planning to get extra rest for tomorrow," he told her.

Ororo eyed him sceptically. "At half-past eight in the evening? I don't think so, Scott. You can sit and brood all you like at home, but right now you've got a chance to walk in some lovely gardens with a pretty girl. Just go with the flow for a change, huh? For me?"

Completely taken aback, Scott remembered to close his mouth before Ororo grinned, then leaned forward to give him a completely unexpected peck on the cheek. "Just enjoy yourself, my friend. Tomorrow could get hairy."

Viewed in that light, Scott thought, it made sense. So when Fleur returned, he rose and offered her his arm, and the two of them headed outside into the warm evening.

Storm was escorted by Professor McGonagall to her private rooms. McGonagall offered her tea, and showed her to one of two armchairs in front of a large window. They sipped for a few minutes in silence, then McGonagall began, "Miss Monroe..."

"Ororo, please, Professor."

"Ah, yes. I am afraid I must be either very old-fashioned or too British. I am not accustomed to the speed with which you Americans like to get on first-name terms," McGonagall admitted. "_Ororo_ is a lovely but rather unusual name."

"It's the one my mother gave me - it means 'Beauty'. The 'Monroe' I adopted in America--I stole it from Marilyn Monroe."

"I see. A Muggle cinema actress, was she not? Famed for her beauty and a tragically early death?" In answer to Storm's look, McGonagall continued, "Not all of us completely ignore the Muggle world, Ororo.

"But to come to my point: When we were arranging the exchange scheme, Charles was good enough to send over files on all his staff. I am therefore aware that you are an orphan, of African origin. What do you know or remember of your family and background?"

"Not much." Storm's voice became low and sad, "My mother was a priestess-a woman of power. I...I was worshipped as a goddess because of my hair. There were legends, you see, about the tribe's ancestors mating with white-haired supernatural beings. When I was five years old, another tribe raided our village. Mother was killed, and I was sold into slavery -yes, it still happens. I was taken to Cairo, where a criminal bought me. He taught me to beg, to pick pockets and locks, and to burgle houses.

"Then, when I was twelve, he sold my virginity to a rich customer. But my Mutant powers were starting to manifest, and when the man tried to touch me--" Ororo paused, hands held out. "The authorities said the lightning bolt was a freak of nature. It destroyed the house, killing everyone inside except me. The street people knew better. I was an outcast; they were scared of me. I begged and stole for a living until Dr. Moira McTaggart, a UN worker, found me. She knew Professor Xavier, and she recognised me for what I am. She sent me to Xavier's, which has been my home ever since. The X-Men are my family, now."

McGonagall waited for a moment before replying, "I am sorry to have dragged up such painful memories, Ororo, but I have my reasons.

"As Deputy Head, it falls to me each year to send out the letters inviting new students to Hogwarts. Some of our students are pure-blooded wizards, so the letters are expected and eagerly awaited by the families and children. The human heart being what it is, of course, some witches and wizards marry Muggles, and most of these half-blooded children are also wizards, but again, the parents know to expect the letter.

"However, there are an increasing number of children being born into Muggle families-families with no prior connection to our world-who are manifesting Wizarding talents."

"Like Charm, you mean?"

"Charm?"

"Hermione. C_harm_ is her X-Man code name."

"I see. Interesting choice, given her rather...assertive personality. But yes, Miss Granger is a Muggle-born, unlike her beau, Mr Weasley, who is a Pureblood.

"Now, such children usually begin to show their talent fairly early, and the Ministry has an agreement whereby Muggle teachers, medical staff and social workers can report such occurrences. It is part of my task to confirm their findings, discreetly of course. I was given this job because I have a knack for spotting youngsters who possess true magical talent.

"Which brings me to my point: Are you aware, Ororo, that you possess magical talent?"

Stunned, Ororo simply stared. McGonagall went on, "I expect and believe that this talent has, as it were, merged with, and possibly enhanced, your Mutant abilities. With study and training, you should be able to use the full range of magical skills as we wizards do."

Storm was completely at a loss. "Professor McGonagall, I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing for now, Ororo. You should reflect on this knowledge at length. If you elect to pursue magical training, it would be a large commitment--one you may not wish to make. Tomorrow will be a full and dangerous day for you, so you must not be preoccupied with other thoughts."

"Dangerous only if the Hulk breaks out," Ororo amended.

McGonagall smiled reassuringly. "In my opinion, Scott Summers is a capable individual. If things go badly for our people tomorrow, I am convinced he will not let harm come to them without intervening, Hulk or no Hulk. But come, Ororo, let us have some more tea, and enjoy this fine evening."

The light outside had turned amber. They heard Scott and Fleur pass beneath the window, talking quietly. There was a ripple of laughter from the girl, followed quickly by Scott's quiet chuckle-a sound Ororo had not heard in far too long. Across the grounds, Ororo saw the lights of the plane turn on, and guessed that Arthur had prevailed upon Hank to show him their state-of-the-art aircraft.

High on a west-facing battlement of the castle, Kurt Wagner watched the sinking sun. He had come up here to pray, not knowing whether the school had a chapel, but doubting it. Now, at peace with himself and the world, Nightcrawler crouched on the very edge of the wall, gripping the ancient stonework with his prehensile toes. A figure came out of the shadows to stand nearby.

"Good evening, Herr Lupin," Wagner greeted him, waving toward the landscape. "A most beautiful view."

"It is. Call me Remus, please. You're Kurt, aren't you?"

"_Ja._"

Remus studied the figure beside him. The X-Man looked as if he belonged here, with his gargoyle features and the long, thin tail that swayed gently back and forth. The air of serenity surrounding the younger man despite his demonic appearance struck Remus. He could not resist asking, "How do you do it, Kurt? How do you stay so calm, so happy? I mean, no offence, but you look like...like..."

"Like something created to scare naughty children?" Kurt laughed softly. "I was raised in a circus, Remus. People used to the Bearded Lady or the Boneless Man had no problems with how I looked."

"They put you in the Freak Show?" Remus was horrified.

Kurt shook his head, "_Nein_, they are not so wasteful of talent. I was a trapeze artist, one of the finest. The audience thought my face to be make-up-a mere gimmick. It was only when I was taken from the circus that people feared me. For them, I feel pity; their narrow little lives blind them to the wonders the world holds.

"Also," he added, lifting his crucifix, "I have my faith. I am as the Lord made me, and I trust in His mercy and love." Nightcrawler cocked his head, eying Lupin. "Yet, I think it is not so simple for you. Your...monster...is inside."

"You know?" Remus breathed, astonished.

Kurt nodded. "Wolverine told us. His senses are keen as yours, perhaps more so, and he recognised the scent. But it is no problem. You are a good man, or you would not be here. Hold to that, if to nothing else, and be true to yourself. It is the most any of us can do."

Nymphadora and Bill talked until the distance between them faded away with the sun.

Bill began with stories of his exacting, often dangerous, work in Egypt. Tonks listened to his words of praise for the rose-coloured beauty of the desert at sunset, the glory of sunrise over the Great Pyramid, the simple dignity and warm hospitality of the Bedouin tribesmen he had known.

In her turn, Nymphadora described her decision to become an Auror, a choice based on her fierce commitment to the protection of their world. In the end, she admitted, "It makes it hard with men. Most of them feel challenged by me--even other Aurors."

Bill laughed. "Surely there are _some_ men out there who aren't complete wimps?"

"Names--I need names," she quipped. "Anyway, I'm not a very _girly_ girl, you know."

"Really? Well, I'd go so far as to say you're far more woman than girl, Nymphadora."

She made light of the compliment, reaching for the wine bottle to cover the sharp pleasure she felt in the tone of his voice as he spoke her name. A careless hand knocked the bottle over. Bill leaned across deftly to catch it before the wine spilled; that movement brought him closer to Tonks. He looked up to find her face barely an inch from his.

"Well?" she murmured softly. He smiled, and leaned in. After that, there was very little reason to talk.

Much later, after a final check-in at the Infirmary, Fleur brought Scott to the door of the Hufflepuff dormitory. She was staying with the other wizards in the Ravenclaw area. Scott had remarked wryly,

"_I'm_ supposed to walk _you_ to your door, but this castle is so confusing!"

Fleur laughed; Scott liked the sound of it. She said, "When I stayed 'ere for ze tournament, eet took me weeks to find my way 'ere and zair. Now, we must sleep, _mon ami_. Tomorrow, we weel be very busy."

To Scott's utter astonishment, she stretched to kiss him lightly on the cheek, saying, "_Bonne nuit_, Scott, _et merci_. Thees was the marvellous evening. Per'aps tomorrow, we may do eet, again." She stroked his face with one delicate finger, then went on her way, smiling a private little smile as she felt his eyes on her until she turned the corner. He would not ignore her now, this man.

As he prepared for bed, Scott tried to think about the next day, but the feel of Fleur's lips on his cheek, like her perfume around him, lingered.

**Chapter 5: Sundered Paths**

Harry knew he couldn't outrun the deadly rock hurtling toward him. Desperate for escape, he kept scanning the corridor as he ran. There were no branching corridors, no handy alcoves, just - oh, _shit_ - a blank wall dead ahead! It was glassy smooth, not climbable, but about ten metres up there was a cave opening. So that was the test- he was supposed to get to the cave by magic!

Harry had no broom, and he couldn't levitate himself; that left one option-Apparation. Apparation was something Harry was still struggling to learn. He hadn't yet been licensed, but right now, he wasn't going to quibble over fine legal points! He could hear the boulder rumbling behind him as he concentrated on the cave mouth above him-_thinking_ himself up to it.

Thankfully, the transition was smoother than one of Nightcrawler's teleports, though it had the same sensation of being picked up and thrown. As he arrived on the ledge, the boulder struck the wall below him with an almighty crash. Harry almost lost his balance, nearly pitching from the ledge. As he looked down, the boulder vanished. _The trap must magically reset itself,_ he thought.

Time to assess his situation. He was unhurt, safe for the moment, but quite alone. Harry had no idea how far he had been taken from his companions-no idea how large the Labyrinth might be. He had begun to suspect that it existed in a magical space of its own that only touched the real world here and there. The ledge he stood on was not a cave mouth, but rather the opening of a short tunnel with clear light shining at the far end. On a large, flat stone near the entrance, Harry read the words _Onward and Upward_. Well, that was clear enough! It was only when he reached the far end of the tunnel and peered into the next chamber that he realised that nothing in the Labyrinth was as simple as it seemed.

The area was vast and square, but extended upwards and downwards further than the eye could see. The room was filled with straight stairways, spiral staircases, slopes, ramps, ladders and walkways. Harry knew he had to head upwards, but how? As he looked more closely, he realised that it wasn't just a matter of choosing the right path. The stairs moved, like the ones at Hogwarts; but more than that, the geometry of some of them was...wrong. There were slopes that should lead upwards but which, when he looked more closely, clearly headed _down_. Others led off at impossible angles, and some had top surfaces that managed to face downwards. Harry was reminded of a picture that hung in Xavier's office. The Muggle artist clearly enjoyed playing with perspective; he had drawn a group of robed figures endlessly pushing a large sphere up a slope whose top was somehow also its bottom.

Harry drew a deep breath. He had to move on, but one wrong turning here could, at best, send him yards in the wrong direction, and at worst, see him plummeting to his death in the unfathomable depths below. After a while, Harry realised that only a wizard used to seeing a world outside the constraints of Muggle logic, acting on intuition more than rational thought, could thread this path successfully. He grinned to himself, wondering how the ultra-logical Hermione would have coped with this. Then he sobered, aware that Hermione, Ron and his other friends would likely be facing challenges of their own-without him there to help! Harry shook his head angrily; his friends were right, he had to learn to trust in them and their abilities.

It might have been an hour, or longer, before Harry became aware of a voice. "Calling anybody. Anybody out there? Come in, please?"

The sound was coming from his jeans pocket. He pulled out the communicator, realising that he must have somehow pushed the switch while clambering up one of the ladders. He slipped it over his ear and spoke into it. "Hello? Hawk speaking. Who's there?"

"Hawk? Hawk, this is Rogue. Do you copy?"

"Rogue, where are you?"

"That's a damn fool question to ask in a place like this!"

The young X-Men had not lingered to solve the problem of the descending ceiling. Colossus had immediately changed to his armoured form and attacked the door, but even his superhuman strength had failed to shift it. Cannonball had offered to try blasting through it, but Rogue had decided the chamber they were in was too small for him to do so safely. The same caution had applied to Sunfire's plasma bolts.

At that point, Ariel had rolled her eyes and, muttering, "For cryin' out loud!" in the true Wolverine manner, had simply walked _through_ the door. Then she had come back in and asked, "Are you guys coming, or what?" Ariel had taken Colossus' hand, he had taken Wolfsbane's, and so forth, forming a human chain which Ariel had led out of the room. They had rested a while in the brightly lit corridor beyond-phasing such a large number of people was still tiring for Ariel, though as her physical strength and Mutant power developed, she was becoming better at it.

The corridor had opened into a large, circular stone chamber with no apparent exits. As soon as they were all in, the corridor mouth had vanished. Assuming that this was a kind of puzzle, Rogue and her team had set about looking for a way out-that was when things got crazy! Rogue had felt a familiar swirl- _Here we go again..._ - and had found herself in a dimly lit, narrow passageway. A glimmer of light showed her the exit, but as she made toward it, the floor and walls began to sprout spears, like something out of _Indiana Jones_!

Rogue had no idea how wizards might handle this situation. She fell back on Wolverine's training, listening for the telltale click that preceded each spear's extension, and jumping, dodging or rolling as the occasion demanded. Rogue managed to reach the exit without being skewered, and from there had attempted to call her team-mates without success. Of course, without the satellite uplink, the communicators were short range or line-of-sight only, and Rogue had no idea of how big this Labyrinth was.

Noting the plaque that said _Here Begins Your Descent_, she had ventured into a huge chamber that looked like an Escher drawing brought to brain-twisting life! Within moments, Rogue had realised that she must leave behind all pretence of logic, and proceed on instinct. She had threaded the maze for what must have been an hour, wishing she had read _The Name of the Rose_ more carefully, and occasionally checking to see if anyone else was in here with her. It was still a surprise to get a response, and doubly so when it turned out to be Hawk!

The two young people finally spotted each other and, by dint of frantic hand signals and cryptic-sounding exchanges over the communicators, managed to find their way to a meeting place. Harry saw Rogue at the top of a ramp, gave her a cheery wave, and started up toward her. His feet shot out from under him and he began to slide down the slope toward her.

At the bottom of the slope, Rogue saw Hawk somehow lose his footing and begin to fall toward her. She started up the slope to help him, only to find herself tumbling down it on a direct collision course with Harry.

A gaping void suddenly opened in front of Harry; he plunged through it to land on some kind of soft, cloth-covered surface. Seconds later, Rogue shot through the same gap with a yell, her not inconsiderable weight landing full on Harry and, despite the padding beneath him, knocking the wind out of both of them.

When they could speak again, Harry looked up into Rogue's face and said dryly, "So nice of you to drop in on me."

"Wasn't exactly my idea, sugah."

At that singularly inappropriate moment, Marie suddenly became aware of the lean muscularity of the body under hers, just as Harry noticed the way her sinuous curves rested against him. Rogue was about to say something flippant, when the streak of white hair she habitually left loose suddenly brushed against Harry's cheek.

Whether that slight contact triggered Rogue's power or whether Harry had another telepathic 'flash', neither of them was ever quite certain. All they knew was that in that instant, a lifetime's understanding passed between them. Both of them had been thrust from the homes they had known into larger, stranger worlds by differences they had not realised existed in them. Those differences had put them both in mortal danger from implacable foes, and propelled them into positions of unwanted prominence. As Harry had been unable to save Cedric and Sirius, so Rogue had been unable to prevent her classmate, John Allerdyce--_Pyro_--from betraying the X-Men and turning to Magneto's Brotherhood, and had been able only to watch helplessly as Jean Grey sacrificed herself for them all.

Both of them felt the loneliness of leadership, the desire to protect their friends at any cost to themselves, and the desperate need to love and be loved. Marie bent her head to Harry and their lips brushed lightly together. It was not quite a kiss, but for a moment, things hung in the balance. Then Rogue saw Ginny's face in her mind, and Harry remembered Bobby. Harry drew in a deep breath, as Rogue sighed heavily and rolled off him.

They got to their feet, as best they could. The floor of the small, dark room was covered with a kind of mattress, which had cushioned their fall. In one corner, a small door stood slightly ajar. Harry pointed it out to Rogue and began to move toward it. He turned to face her when she caught his arm.

"It would've been awfully nice, Harry," Rogue said softly.

He nodded. "And it would have been terribly wrong," Harry reminded Rogue.

Then, because there would always be a special bond between them now, he took her gloved hand in his, and they moved together to the door.

The first thing Ron heard as he came to his senses was Hermione screaming in terror. He spun toward the sound and saw the girl he loved crouched in a corner and menaced by a muscular, coal-black figure. Hermione's wand was a few feet away, out of her reach.

Ron waded in at once. He knew magic wouldn't help, because if it could, Hermione already would have reduced her assailant to a grease-spot. Ron planted one large hand on the creature's shoulder, spun it around and slammed the heel of his other hand into its jaw. The thing's head snapped back and it staggered, then roared and lunged at him. Ron sideslipped a swipe from a clawed hand, and decided that the gloves were off! As the thing regained its balance, Ron launched a kite-strike to the liver. His adversary dropped like a stone. Ron instantly turned to Hermione.

She was on her feet and flew into his arms. "Oh, Ron, thank God! I love you!"

She kissed him passionately, and it was then that Ron realised something was wrong. He knew Hermione's kisses, from affectionate little pecks to deep, sensual embraces. This girl was _not_ Hermione! Ron tried to pull back, but found himself held in a grip even he couldn't break.

The figure that held him flowed and changed. Ron was in the embrace of a stunningly beautiful woman, at least seven feet tall, with gleaming, black hair, ivory-white skin and glowing, golden eyes. She smiled, showing teeth that were neat and pointed, like a cat's.

"I think what we will do first," she said in a husky voice, "is to render _this_ ineffective!"

She placed a hand over the pendant Ron wore around his neck. It was the one he had bought in America, one of a pair Hermione had enchanted. Each one signalled to the other if the wearer lost consciousness, and each was a Portkey attuned to the other. Now Ron felt the pendant go cold for a second.

The woman smiled, again. "Do not worry. Once you leave the Labyrinth-_if_ you leave it-the thing will work as before."

She gave Ron a considering look. "Young Gryffindor, no wizard has ever passed the Test of Combat so quickly. The warrior-mage Godric would be proud! Most of your kind quail from a physical fight, but you are strong and skilled. You also pass the first stage of the Test of Honour-you are not deceived by a mere image of your true love. Alas, the next part of the test is not so easily passed. We shall see."

"Who...what are you?" asked Ron hoarsely.

"I am Amagor. Sleep now, warrior."

She pressed her lips to his. Ron felt himself sink into a deep, black well of sleep.

Colossus had been through a Portkey, so he knew straight away what had happened. He had stayed in his armoured form as a precaution, so was pretty sure that anything he met couldn't damage him-at least not immediately!

When he did not come under instant attack, Peter took stock of his surroundings. He found himself in a large, circular room, there was a round pool in the middle of the floor, and the walls were decorated with mosaics.

Peter would be the first to admit that he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he applied himself to studying the pictures on the walls, looking for a clue as to what this room had in store. The pictures showed an underwater world, replete with fish, dolphins, whales and so forth. Mixed in with them were mythological creatures such as mermaids and slinkily attractive young women he assumed were some kind of water nymph-_Naiads_, did they call them? Colossus shrugged; he'd spent a term in a school full of witches, wizards and ghosts-better not to think in terms of _mythology_ any more.

Anyway, the pictures seemed to hint that any exit to the room lay through the pool in the centre. He remembered someone talking about kinds of magic used to travel underwater, so he assumed that this room was for testing young wizards' skills in that area. He went to the pool and looked down into it. Beyond his own wavering reflection, he saw an odd symbol inlaid into the bottom of the pool and--there! A tunnel-mouth in one side.

Then the symbol began to whirl, and the water with it. Colossus stepped back from the edge, just as the pool erupted into a waterspout that reached almost to the high ceiling! As he watched, shapes began to spin out of the spout, vaguely humanoid shapes as big as Colossus himself, that made for him with obvious hostility.

The first one hurled itself at him, apparently trying to absorb him or something. He slapped at it with a steel hand, and it flew apart in a shower of spray. But as the others pressed their attack, Colossus saw the creature re-form itself. Then he was covered in a deluge of watery forms.

It quickly became clear to Colossus that he was in an impasse. Individually, the water creatures were no match for him, even collectively they could not harm him. On the other hand, no matter how many of them he shattered, they always re-formed, and between them and the waterspout, he could not reach the pool that was his only exit. The pressure of water was too much even for his super-strength to overcome. _At least, _he thought with grim humour, _I won't rust!_

How long this went on, he had no way of knowing, then he caught a movement off to one side. He forced himself round to see a hidden panel opening in the wall, and a small, dark figure against a blue light. Some of the water-creatures left him to attack the figure. Colossus surged forward to help, but before he could get there, he heard a voice saying, "_Aqua tranquilis!"_

Instantly, the creatures dissolved into streams of water that ran down into the pool, while the waterspout slowed and sank until the pool was as calm as before. The small figure stepped forward as the panel in the wall slid silently shut, saying, "Peter? Is that really you?"

Peter transformed back into his human form and squinted at his rescuer. It was without doubt one of the Patil twins, but which one? This girl had her hair tied back in a ponytail, while Parvati always wore hers loose, so it had to be "Padma?"

"Oh, it is you! Peter, I'm so glad to see you."

"Not as glad as I am to see you!"

He stepped forward and, ignoring her outstretched hand, pulled her into a quick hug, which she returned hesitantly. Then, by common consent, they sat down against the wall to talk.

"Padma, do you have the slightest idea of what's going on here?" asked Peter. "I mean, Wolverine said that Professor Dumbledore told them that this place was designed like a kind of...Wizard Danger Room, I suppose. But he said things had gotten out of hand, and the place was closed down hundreds of years ago."

"Well, there you go, Peter," said Padma with a little laugh. "You know as much as I do. More, because I'm not entirely sure what a 'Danger Room' is.

"I can hazard a guess that the part of the Labyrinth we're in now has to do with elemental magic. The room I was transported to was full of Sylphs-wind spirits-and those things you were fighting were Water Sprites. We can't go back the way I came; that door will have sealed itself behind me."

Peter grinned. "Give me room to swing, and it won't be sealed for long!"

"I'll bet!" Padma grinned back. "But there's no point. I was teleported straight into there, and I don't think there's any other way in or out. In the Labyrinth, the only way out is through."

"Well, there's a tunnel in the bottom of that pool, so I reckon we're supposed to go that way."

"OK! If I'm right, the next two rooms should be Earth and Fire, but in what order I don't know. I'll need to cast a Bubble-Head charm for each of us."

Peter chuckled, rose and transformed to his Colossus form. "No need for me, small one. In this form, I don't need to breathe. Cast your charm, and let's go find the others."

Parvati had arrived in a square chamber of white marble, with no apparent entrances or exits. For a while, she had wandered around, tapping on walls and trying various opening or revealing charms to no avail. Just as she was about to give up in disgust, she turned around to find that a door had somehow appeared in the wall behind her!

_Somebody_ thought Parvati _is having a laugh. _She cautiously tried the door; it swung open at her touch, revealing a softly lit corridor hung with tapestries. There was a faint, sweet perfume in the air and the sound of gentle music from some stringed instrument. Parvati ventured out along the corridor. As she expected, the door closed behind her and vanished. Forward it was, then.

She examined the tapestries as she walked. They were exquisite pieces, and all carried a common theme: handsome young men and lovely young women were depicted in a variety of romantic situations. Handkerchiefs were being dropped and flowers plucked. There were moonlit assignations and much serenading under windows. As Parvati proceeded, the encounters shown in the tapestries became more intimate, and the clothing slightly more clinging and revealing. There was nothing too obvious, but quite enough to give rise to some really rather pleasant reveries in the mind of a healthy teenager. And if some of those reveries strongly featured a certain tall, redheaded young man, where was the harm in that?

Parvati turned a corner to find the corridor ended in another door. On the panels of the door was more of the golden writing:

_Within, the victorious warrior lies in sleep. He waits to be awakened by a fair maiden's kiss. Wait not too long, for as the petals fall, so ebbs his life. Yet if troth be broken, neither shall leave. Have you the strength?_

"Bloody Hell," muttered Parvati. "What am I going to find in here?"

She opened the door, and stepped into...she wasn't sure what to call it, really. There were more tapestries, but these were more overtly erotic than the others, while stopping just short of outright pornography. There were dozens of candles, shedding a soft yellow light. But all this was just dressing around the central focus of the room-a massive four-poster bed, on which lay the quietly sleeping form of _Ron Weasley_! Set into the heavy headboard above him was a crystal globe, in which floated a blood-red rose. As Parvati watched, a single petal fell from the bloom.

"As the petals fall, so ebbs his life," she murmured to herself. She had to find Hermione, quick!

Parvati turned to find that the door was flanked by two life-size, warrior statues, each carrying a long spear. As she stepped toward the door, the statues moved, crossing their spears over the portal. One of them spoke in a clear, ringing voice. "Once entered, the test must be attempted."

_Oh, no!_ If it had been anybody else, Parvati thought, it would have been easy. Well, maybe not Harry, but _everybody_ fancied Harry (except Hermione, perhaps). Even that Slytherin dyke Bulstrode had been caught casting slyly appreciative glances at Harry's bum when he walked past!

The trouble was, Parvati liked Ron a little _too_ much.

She went back to the bed, seeing that more petals had fallen from the rose. She couldn't afford to dither for long! Well, at least she still qualified as a maiden; given the frequency with which Ron and Hermione slipped up to the Boy's Dormitory when they thought no one would notice, Parvati doubted that Hermione could meet _that_ requirement any more! Parvati had dated from time to time, but nothing had as yet gone that far.

The bed was big, and Ron lay in the middle of it. Parvati couldn't lean over, she would have to climb onto the bed and lie beside Ron. At least he was fully clothed, which she took to mean that she could keep her own clothes on. But she'd bet her last Knut that a kiss on the forehead or a peck on the cheek wouldn't do the job!

_Oh bloody, bloody Hell!_ Another petal fell. Parvati suddenly had a vision of trying to explain why she'd left Ron to die to a weeping, heartbroken Hermione. It was the thought of Hermione's heartbreak that decided Parvati. She clambered up onto the bed and leaned over Ron.

"Here we go," she breathed, then bent down and kissed him softly but rather thoroughly.

Ron came up out of the blackness with the sensation of yet another set of lips on his-this was getting beyond a joke! This kiss was also not Hermione's, though it was almost as sweet. He opened his eyes to find himself veiled by a long fall of dark hair. He smelled patchouli-only one person he knew wore patchouli. He was about to ease Parvati away, when she retreated of her own accord and looked down at him.

"Ron? Are you all right?"

"Er, yes, I think so."

She nodded, then suddenly scrambled farther away to sit on the edge of the bed with her back to Ron. As he stretched, he studied her. She was tense, almost rigid- God knows how she was expecting him to react. Awkwardly, he moved to sit beside her.

"I think you just saved my life, Parvati. I know it's inadequate, but thanks!"

"You're welcome," she muttered, not looking at him.

Ron sighed. "You're not going to make this easy for either of us, are you? Look, if it helps, I _did_ notice how you've been around me lately. Why?"

Parvati stared at her hands as they lay in her lap. "It was the beginning of this last year. You helped me off the train when I got in a tangle with some of my stuff. You were teasing me about it, but you were so kind I suddenly saw you _differently_. But it was no good, of course."

Ron chose his words carefully. "Parvati, Hermione and I didn't start going out until Hallowe'en. You could have said something, you know!"

"_We didn't start going out until Hallowe'en,"_" she mimicked sourly. "Hippogriff shit, Ron! You might as well have arrived at our Sorting Ceremony six years ago with _Property of Hermione Granger_ stamped on your forehead.

"Everyone knew, except you, Hermione and Harry. Not that Harry _ever _notices anything like that. How did that American girl get him? Rip her clothes off and jump on him?"

Ron laughed in spite of himself, and now Parvati did look at him, smiling ruefully though her eyes were full of hurt. She shook her head and went on. "I had to kiss you just now to save your life, but I swear, Ron, I did it for you and Hermione, not for me!

"But when I felt you start to wake up, I didn't want to _stop!_ I wanted you to know it was me, and what I was doing. I wanted you to enjoy it, and maybe...maybe you'd kiss me back. And now I feel really awful!"

She began to cry. Ron hesitated for a moment, but he couldn't really bear to see anyone cry-especially a friend-without doing something; he was his mother's son, after all. He put his arm around Parvati's shoulders and drew her against him. She tried to pull away, but he was adamant, so she rested her head on his shoulder until she'd finished crying. When she had quietened, he spoke gently to her.

"Parvati, you did what you did for all the right reasons. Your feelings...oh, Merlin, I'm no good at this! Look, back there, I actually _met_ the Amagor who runs this place, and she's a real cow! I'd bet you any amount that she knew how you felt and set this up for that exact reason. We've been manipulated. She was probably hoping we'd get carried away and end up having it off on this bed!

"We've won. We beat her! I tell a lie, _you_ beat her because you did stop. So, no more tears, Parvati. Be proud of yourself. And, by the way, it _was_ nice, just not the real thing for me."

Parvati slipped away a little-Ron let her now-and looked up at him. "Are you going to tell Hermione?"

He shook his head. "No, _we _are, and only as much as she needs to know, OK?

"If the X-Men really are here, it's going to be bad enough with Ginny and Kitty sharpening their claws on each other. I don't want to have to referee between you and Hermione."

Parvati swallowed hard, then nodded. "OK, Ron."

"Right! Now, let's get the flock out of here, and the sheep as well! These tapestries are bad for my blood pressure!"

They got up and went to the door. The statues had resumed their former positions, and the door was no longer blocked. As they approached, one of the statues announced in a ringing voice: "Troth was not broken! The Test of Honour has been passed! Go in peace."

They went, more or less at peace with each other.

Ginny was feeling a bit of an idiot. She'd arrived in a cave festooned with cobwebs, and promptly been attacked by a dozen or so three-foot spiders. Now, this was something she'd done before, and she dealt with the creatures in short order. _Well,_ she thought, _if this is the best the Labyrinth can manage, I'm in for an easy day._

The shadow that suddenly loomed behind her, however, was twice as big as the others. Before she could turn, Ginny felt a sharp sting at the back of her neck. She muttered something very unladylike, and passed out cold.

Ginny woke up with a thumping headache to find herself hanging about twenty feet above the cavern floor, wrapped from neck to heel in spider silk. _Oh, bloody marvellous! Now, I'm on the menu!_ There wasn't a lot she could do. She no longer had her wand and, anyway, she couldn't move. She'd just have to wait for an opportunity to present itself. Sadly, patience was not among Ginny Weasley's virtues.

How long she hung there, Ginny had no idea. It was the smallest of sounds that caught her attention-the scrape of a boot heel on the stone floor of the cavern. Ginny looked down to see a slim figure in black leather looking up. The girl was about the same size as Ginny and had a mane of thick auburn hair. _Oh, Merlin!_ thought Ginny, _of all the X-Men to find me, it had to be THIS one!_

Ariel looked up at the mummy-like figure suspended in midair above her. The red hair had let her hope it was Wolfsbane for a moment, but Rahne wore her hair short, and this girl's was shoulder length. It had to be a witch-the wand Ariel had found and retrieved among the remains of several giant spiders was proof enough of that. It was Ginny Weasley, of course, and didn't it just _have_ to be! Oh, well, they'd have to face each other sometime.

Ginny watched, open-mouthed, as Ariel began to walk up toward her. Kitty stepped on the air as if it were a staircase. When she encountered a strand of web, she simply walked _through_ it. Finally, they were face to face.

"Careful! There's the devil of a big spider in here, somewhere!" Ginny remarked in a low voice.

Kitty glanced around at the web-festooned cave. "No shit, Sherlock!"

"So _that's_ where Harry got that phrase from!"

"Guess so. This yours?" Ariel held up Ginny's wand.

"You found it? Thanks!"

"No problem. You're Ginny, right?"

"Yes, and you're Kitty-_Ariel_."

"That's me. If I get you out and give you your wand back, do you promise not to turn me into anything gross?"

"OK, at least until I've had a word with Peter. If you're not looking after him properly, the deal's off!"

"Yeah, well, if you're not treating Harry right, you'll be in trouble, too. So now that's out of the way, hold still."

Ariel put her hand on the side of Ginny's head and concentrated for a moment. "OK, step toward me."

Ginny did so, and found that she could not only walk through the web, but was standing on thin air as naturally as on a floor. It was rather unnerving.

Ariel was speaking again. "Reach out and take my other hand. OK, now we go together. Walk like you're going downstairs. If you let go of my hand, you're gonna fall."

The two girls made it safely to the cave floor, where Ariel let go of Ginny and passed her the wand. They made their way toward the exit, only to hear a sudden scrabbling sound. Ariel and Ginny spun round to see a six-foot spider charging on them. This time, Ginny didn't mess about; the spider sank into the floor as if it were quicksand.

"That's that, then!" she said triumphantly. "Now, all we have to do is get through the rest of this place without either getting killed or murdering each other."

Ariel grimaced. "Ginny, we don't need to fight. Fair exchange is no robbery, you know."

"I know. I've got Harry; you've got Peter. We shouldn't complain. But Harry's still fond of you, you know!"

"Harry will always be special to me, Ginny. You of all people should know why. Anyway, Peter still cares for you, as well."

Ginny gazed appraisingly at Kitty. "You're right. I just don't like sharing my man."

Kitty laughed. "You'll always have to share Harry, Ginny. Bear in mind, Hermione got a piece of him before either of us did, and she's always gonna have it."

Ginny shook her head. "Hermione doesn't count. They were never anything but friends."

Eying each other warily, the two went on their way. After a bit, they found their bickering turned amiable, at least for now.

Luna decided she _really _hated Golems! The huge chamber she had been teleported into was crawling with the things. Luna had never really cared for the idea of imparting magical pseudo-life to inanimate figures. They were creepy because they were so emotionless.

Up to now, however, she had had no real difficulty with them. The wooden ones burned quite merrily, and the articulated and reanimated skeletons could be transfigured in any one of a dozen ways to render them harmless. Even the traditional clay ones were no trouble; the right spell slowed them down long enough for her to pluck the little parchment from their mouths and de-animate them.

The only real problem so far was that the things always managed to be between her and the only door. She had just removed the scroll from the mouth of the last one when there was a sound like the ringing of a huge bell. A figure appeared in front of her. At least seven feet tall, it was a breathtakingly handsome man with raven-dark hair, white skin and golden eyes. He considered her for a moment, then spoke in a deep, rich voice.

"You are most skilled, maiden of Ravenclaw. The faint-hearted mages were wrong, as I knew they were. Did they think that I, the djinn Amagor, would content myself with being bested more easily with each passing year?

"No, a test must be a true test. The strong, the skilled, the brave and the pure of heart alone shall leave my domain. They were foolish to snatch away the weak from their fate. I have seen to it that this will happen no more!

"But, for you, maiden of Ravenclaw, I have a special honour. Since you deal so easily with my lesser toys, you shall face a more potent creation. Behold!"

Amagor vanished, to be replaced by a different figure. It appeared to be a metal statue of a man, roughly life sized. Another Golem? An iron one this time. Well, it had been a long time since witches and wizards needed to fear iron! Luna raised her wand-and the thing's eyes opened.

They were red, without iris or pupil, and they glowed. A wave of intense heat struck Luna as the thing stepped forward. Then its mouth opened and a ball of fire shot out at her. She only just managed to get up a shield in time.

Within moments, Luna realised she was in desperate danger. The heat within the iron Golem seemed to be mounting rapidly. Its body began to glow, first blue, then red, then orange. Soon, she sensed, it would be white-hot. She needed to back away further and further to prevent the mere proximity of the thing from scorching her. All the while, it continued to spit a rapid series of fireballs that grew in power and virulence as the heat within the creature built.

Luna had no time to cast a counter-spell; it was all she could do to maintain the shield. She tried darting away to get a little distance and to buy time, but the Golem moved as fast as she did, relentlessly manoeuvring her into a corner. Racking her brains to come up with a plan, Luna felt her clothes beginning to singe as the thing bore down on her. To drop her shield long enough to cast another spell would invite incineration, but if she could sink the thing into the floor... Luna prepared for a last frantic effort, then felt a sudden change.

The air around her became blessedly cool for a moment, then bitterly cold. The Golem was suddenly encased in a thick shell of ice! The ice lasted only an instant, before breaking, melting, and then evaporating into steam. The Golem advanced on Luna again, but the damage was done. The near white-hot metal of its skin had been cooled within seconds to sub-zero temperatures; as a result, it had become brittle. The simple act of moving was enough to shatter it, and Amagor's prized creation simply fell apart while Luna watched. The molten core flowed out, only to hiss and billow with steam as it, too, cooled with unnatural rapidity.

There was only one person who could accomplish such a feat. Luna peered through the clouds of steam to see a wiry, sandy-haired young man coming toward her.

"Hello, Bob. Nice of you to stop by," she said as calmly as she could.

He grinned back at her. "Hi, Luna. Long time no see!"

"Far too long," she agreed as he took her proffered hand in both of his and squeezed it warmly. "Are Marie and Peter here?" Luna asked.

"We arrived together, but we got separated," Bobby confessed.

Luna nodded. "We did, too. I think Amagor-the djinn who controls this place-wants to test us individually, preferably to destruction."

"No kidding! You mean that wasn't the barbeque chef?"

Luna laughed. "Not even the toaster." Then she sobered. "I think he's picking on our individual fears, or something like that. I never liked the idea of Golems. I wonder if he was testing my ability to overcome a phobia?"

Iceman shrugged, pulling a silver flask out of a uniform pocket. It was the magical one his wizard friends had given him as a parting gift in the spring. He unscrewed the cap at the end that gave an unlimited supply of fresh, sweet water, and passed it to Luna, saying, "Here, you must be thirsty. Take a couple swigs of this. You look about medium rare to me."

"Such a flatterer," Luna retorted. "Anyway, what happened to you, Bob?"

"A whole lot of nothing. I just found myself in a gloomy corridor. I kept on walking, then a panel opened, and I was in this room watching you about to become fricassee. And you'd better call me _Iceman _while I'm in uniform-Rogue's quite the stickler for that!"

"Hmm," Luna considered. "It's just possible you lot have caught Amagor on the hop. He'll no more have heard of Mutants than most wizards have. He won't know what you can do, and the fact that you all have different powers will confuse him even more. That might work to our advantage."

"Or make him more dangerous..."

"There's that, of course," she conceded. "Anyway, the exit from this room is over there. We'd better go and see what's next. Oh, and Bob--_Iceman_, sorry-I'm really glad you're here."

"Feeling's mutual, Luna."

Hermione found herself at the bottom of a slope. At the top of the hill, she could see an arched doorway. Two things were coming through it: a blazing red light and the sounds of conflict. _Somebody's in the thick of things!_ she thought. Hermione dashed up the slope, wand ready.

She emerged into what seemed to be open air, except that the sky above her was purple, and in it burned a huge, red sun. The air was hot and dry, but not uncomfortably so. Hermione realised she was in a large arena, like the Coliseum in Rome where the gladiators used to fight. From the sounds she heard, she guessed there was a battle-royal going on in there, now.

The combatants seemed to be of two types, both roughly man-shaped, but with brutal, ape-like faces. One type was stocky and grey-skinned, the other slender and dark green, but they weren't fighting each other. Instead, they seemed to be concentrating on another opponent Hermione couldn't see for the press of bodies.

A moment later, there was a kind of eruption in the creatures' ranks. Several of them either fell or flew aside as if struck by a battering ram. Hermione started as she recognised the figure that surged through the gap. It had the shape of a young, slender man, but it was a featureless, black silhouette with strength far beyond that of any normal human. Hermione allowed herself a grim smile; these creatures had made a serious mistake in attacking Sunspot!

Still, she'd better get stuck in while she still had surprise on her side. She levelled her wand, invoking "_Stupefy!_" A green-skinned creature crumpled to the ground. Its grey companion turned on her with a snarl. Hermione repeated the Stun spell, but her opponent simply kept on coming. She tried again. This time, the creature stopped within a foot of her, then threw back its head and began to cackle with bestial laughter--laughter that died off in a choking gurgle as Hermione's rigid fingers slammed into its throat. She had not forgotten what Logan had been at such pains to teach her.

Then Sunspot was at her side. He wasted no time in greetings, saying tersely, "The greys stay down when I hit them; the greens just get back up again."

Hermione analysed the situation. The greys were immune to magic, but not physical force; the opposite must be the case for the greens. "You take the greys. I'll handle the greens. Can you watch my back?"

"Charm, I'd pay money to watch your back!"

Fighting and blushing at the same time was a unique experience for Hermione.

The next half-hour or so was hectic, to say the least. By judicious use of fireballs and other wide-effect spells, Hermione was able to substantially reduce the number of greens. Sunspot had made a dent in the greys by the simple expedient of picking up his immediate opponent and throwing it into a knot of others. Doing that enough times put quite a number out of action.

There were still times when Hermione had to confront a grey or Roberto was forced to deal with a green. Fortunately, though the greens could not be damaged by physical force, they could be sent several metres away by one of Sunspot's punches, giving Charm time to deal with them. As for Hermione dealing with greys, thank Medea that Ron had insisted they continue to hone their bodies and the fighting skills they'd learned at Xavier's! Her man had earned himself a super-sized snog when she saw him again, Hermione decided.

At long last, Hermione Petrified the last green, just as Sunspot downed the final grey. They stood there for a moment, concentrating on breathing, as the inert bodies of their erstwhile opponents vanished with a shimmer.

Sunspot relaxed, and the shadow that covered him disappeared, revealing the handsome Latin features of Roberto DaCosta. Hermione stuck her wand into the back pocket of her jeans, then held out both hands to him. "Roberto, I'm so pleased to see you!"

He took her hands in his and favoured her with a wide grin. "And, as always, I am enchanted by you, Hermione."

She blushed and giggled when he kissed her hands, then pulled him close and hugged him. "You don't change, do you? You're still the most awful flirt!"

He stepped back and considered her, his head tilted to one side. "You've changed, though, Hermione. You're not wearing makeup--"

"Oh, silly me," she interrupted, cocking an eyebrow. "I go dashing off to rescue some friends, and of course I go and forget my makeup!"

Roberto laughed. "OK, so you haven't changed _that_ much, sweetie. But still, as I was gonna say, it's in your eyes. That prim little English miss I used to know has gone and turned into a woman. So just what have you and the big guy been up to?"

Hermione blushed again-Roberto loved making her blush. "_Roberto!_" she cried, scandalised.

"Look, I've got a lot of respect for Ron, you know that. I can tell just by looking at you he's treating you right, and that's what counts."

She shook her head. "You're _terrible_. I don't know how Dani puts up with you."

"By being just as bad herself, of course!"

Hermione changed the subject, as the two of them made for the archway that was the only way out. "Doesn't a red sun stop you using your power, Roberto?"

"That's Superman, Hermione. Don't start confusing comic books with real life."

Their laughter drifted behind them as they carried on.

**Chapter 6: Merging Paths**

_I'm not really cut out for this kind of thing_, Seamus Finnigan thought. He was Irish to the core, and as such quite at home in a fight, but mazes, puzzles, quests and so forth were not his cup of tea.

He had appeared in a well-lit corridor, which seemed to lead from nowhere in particular to nowhere special. He had only gone a few metres when a trapdoor in the floor opened beneath him and he fell through onto a kind of mattress. Muttering a few choice phrases, he picked himself up, dusted himself off and took stock of his surroundings.

He was in yet another corridor, but this one wasn't empty. Directly ahead of him were two rapidly rotating columns. There would have been space enough to step between them but for the scimitar-like blades that sprouted from each column. Seamus was considering trying to Apparate past, dubious because he couldn't see clearly what was beyond them, when the situation changed.

There was a bang, followed by a distinctly female squawk. He spun around to see a figure in black land on the mattress he had just vacated. He went over at once, reaching down a hand to the young woman who had arrived so unexpectedly. His hand was taken in a set of strong, slender fingers and the girl rose gracefully to her feet. She was tall, with a good figure, and very pretty, with long, reddish-blonde hair; she was wearing a black leather uniform that Seamus recognised.

"Hello, there!" he said, "Now you'll be after being an X-Man, will you not?" Under stress, Seamus sounded more Irish than usual. "I recognise the uniform, but not yourself. You're not in the photos they brought back with them."

The girl responded with a warm smile. "That's right." She squeezed the hand she was still holding. "I'm Alison Blair. You can call me _Dazzler_ if you like. You're a wizard, of course--one of Ron's friends?"

"Seamus Finnigan," he introduced himself, adding, "and I'm pleased to meet you. Dazzler, is it? A fine name for such a pretty colleen!"

Alison, a clever mimic, adopted a thick brogue. "Now you mind, me gran was a Kelly, and she warned me off young Irish lads and their silver tongues, so she did!"

Seamus burst out laughing, and Alison joined him. It was clear from the start that these two were destined to be good friends, at the very least. When they finished chuckling, they considered the obstacle in front of them.

"I was thinking of Apparating through, but I can't really see past them well enough," Seamus explained.

"Apparating?"

"You disappear in one place and reappear in another."

"Oh! You mean _teleporting_ like Nightcrawler does."

"I think so. He's the one that looks like he belongs on a castle wall, right?"

Dazzler giggled again. "That's him. But don't say that to his face!"

"Wouldn't dream of it. Thing is, now you're here, I can't do it, anyway. I've all I can do to Apparate myself, much less take someone else with me. So," Seamus shrugged, "we'll have to try something else."

He raised his wand, and transfigured the lethal pillars into a pair of red and white barbershop poles. They still spun rapidly, but now harmlessly.

Dazzler applauded. "Cool! Ten points for effectiveness, but like, four out of ten for style. Those things are seriously tacky!" She eyed them, allowing, "At least they're not lava lights."

"Do you mind?" Seamus protested. "I'm a wizard, not an interior designer! Were you thinking of setting up household here? Come on."

Beyond the pillars was a series of three large pendulums, tipped with crescent-shaped blades that swung swiftly back and forth across the corridor. In front of them an iron rod was set upright into the floor. In its clawed end was set a crystal. There was golden writing on the floor in front of the rod.

Seamus read: _To find your path, you must find the light._ "Well, that seems simple enough." He pointed his wand at the crystal and said, "_Lumos!_"

The tip of his wand glowed, but nothing else happened. "Ah. Looks like it's going to be more complicated than that," he said. "Just plain light won't do. I might have known. There are spells to produce different kinds of light, but I'm blowed if I can remember more than a few!"

Dazzler put a hand on his arm. "My turn, then. Light is my strong suit, Seamus."

As she bent to the crystal, Seamus noticed that the swishing, clanking sounds of the pendulums became muted, then faded entirely. He was not aware that Alison was drawing on these sounds to activate her Mutant power. Then he started, as light began to flash from her eyes onto the crystal. With the quickness of a kaleidoscope, the light cycled through the colours of the spectrum. Seamus was never entirely sure which particular colour of light did the trick, but suddenly the pendulums stopped and withdrew up into the ceiling.

"Ta daaaa!" exclaimed Alison, then curtsied as Seamus clapped politely.

The next obstacle was more formidable. A series of spiked barriers were set into the walls, floor and ceiling, slamming across their path in a complex rhythm.

"Extreme hopscotch, anyone?" quipped Alison.

"Shh!" said Seamus. "I know this. Damn! I only did one year of Arithmancy; it all but made my brain leak out of my ears. Hermione would have this in a second."

He watched the barriers and seemed to be counting to himself. "There!" he turned to Dazzler. "It's Macrobius' Sequence!"

"That's clear as mud."

Seamus shook his head. "Of course, you've no idea what I'm on about. Macrobius was a Roman wizard in what Muggles call the First Century. He based all his charms on a certain sequence of numbers. It's not used anymore, but we had to learn it in Arithmancy. These barriers move to the Sequence."

He reached out to her. "You'd better hold my hand, Alison."

"Shocking--and on a first date, too! Kitty told me you Brits were _slow_ workers."

"Oh, give over!" Seamus moaned. "Harry's hardly typical. 'Spect he's a right plodder." Seamus returned his attention to the obstacle course. "We have to move together because I don't want to get across and find I've only brought half of you with me! Wait for my cue and move when I say."

It was actually easier than it looked, once they knew the trick. They proceeded through the barrier in a series of timed dashes. Once they were clear, the spikes withdrew into the walls.

Seamus let go of Alison's hand and grinned at her. "You dance divinely, Miss Blair!"

"Thank you, kind sir! What's next?"

Seamus squinted ahead. "Nothing between us and that door that I can see. But watch where you're treading; there might be another trapdoor."

It wasn't a trapdoor. Instead, a steel cage dropped from the ceiling, neatly ensnaring both of them. "Oh, crap!" said Alison. "Now what?"

"Well," Seamus mused, "the cage has a door with a lock in it, and where there's a lock, there should be...Aha!" He pointed to a small alcove in a nearby wall. Hanging in it was a large, ancient-looking key.

"Great! But it's out there and we're in here," Alison pointed out. "Fat lotta good that does us."

"You give up too easily," Seamus chided. "_Accio_ _key!"_

The key left its hook and floated toward him. Seamus carefully guided it through the bars of the cage into his hand. It fit the lock perfectly, but as Seamus turned it, the key snapped off in his hand. "Oh, bloody Hell and damnation!"

They examined the key. It had rusted through. "I don't think that was supposed to happen," said Seamus.

"Hmm," Alison replied. "Sloppy maintenance. OK, it's up to me, again." She stared ruefully at her companion. "Look, Seamus, I'm not very practiced at this stunt, so stand back and let me concentrate."

Dazzler made some adjustments to the control unit on her wrist. Then she pointed her finger at the lock. A narrow beam of intense white light shot from her fingertip and, to Seamus' amazement, began to chew into the metal of the lock. Within moments, there was a clatter as a chunk of metal dropped to the floor and the door swung open. Alison heaved a deep sigh, and began to tremble slightly as she relaxed. Seamus took her gently by the shoulders, guided her out of the cage and sat her down against the wall. He settled beside her and let her pull herself together.

They sat in silence for a while, then, when he sensed she was feeling more herself, he asked her, "Just how did you do that? I've never seen anything like it, and we wizards see a lot of odd things."

Dazzler smiled at him. "My body metabolizes sound and turns it into light. Does that make sense to you?"

"Sort of. That's why the pendulums went quiet when you did the crystal thing with your eyes, is it?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah. Well, for that last stunt, I used the sound generator built into my uniform to produce enough energy to make a laser beam."

"What's a laser beam?"

"Light Amplification by Stimulation of Emitted Radiation-L, A, S, E, R-_laser_," Dazzler intoned with mock solemnity. "Normal humans, er, Muggles have been using them for years for all sorts of stuff. It's basically a very intense, focused beam of light that can cut through other materials. Most people need complicated projectors to produce it, but if I focus, I can generate the same type of light. I'm getting better at it all the time."

"You did well enough for me this time!" said Seamus heartily, and gave Alison a friendly, little squeeze. "Now, there's the door. With any luck, we'll find our friends somewhere on the other side of it. Are you ready?"

"Sure. Let's get going."

Neville ducked, dove and rolled, coming up onto his feet as neatly as Harry could have done it. "_Stupefy!_" he barked. It had the same effect as before--the giant, armoured figure facing him staggered, grunted, then came on, brandishing its broadsword. Neville darted away again, feeling the wind as the great blade whistled past him.

"Stand and face me, thou craven enchanter! Take up a weapon of manhood and prove thyself in combat!" roared the eight-foot tall warrior.

"Not on your nelly," muttered Neville as he launched another fireball. It wasn't entirely true to say that his spells were ineffective; they just weren't effective enough. The giant had slowed and its armour was looking distinctly the worse for wear. It had also gone through three weapons since Neville had appeared in this barn-like room. Neville had transfigured the double-bladed battleaxe into a feather duster, melted the heavy war-hammer and managed to stick the pike immovably into the wall. The trouble was, the room was lined with racks of weapons, and the warrior clearly wanted Neville to take up one. Not a chance in Hell!

Neville had a shrewd idea that any Unforgivable Curse would stop the warrior in its tracks, but there was no way he would sink to the level of a Death Eater. He had no intention of so dishonouring his family! So all that was left was for him to keep dodging and to wear the creature down before he himself collapsed from exhaustion. Looking back, Neville was suddenly grateful for those gruelling hours spent working out under Ron Weasley's unforgiving eye.

A Time-Slow spell gave him a needed breather, but again the warrior shrugged off the spell too quickly for comfort. Again it lunged at him and Neville dodged, but this time, the warrior's shoulder caught him and sent him to the floor winded. The giant towered over him, raising its blade for the final blow.

"Hah!" it bellowed in triumph. "Let all men know that the warrior's arm is ever more doughty than the wizard's wand. Full two score of your craven kind have I defeated in combats past. Your head shall join theirs!"

It lifted the blade for the killing stroke but suddenly screamed! The sword fell from nerveless fingers, and the warrior staggered away from Neville, yelling and swiping at the empty air. Neville didn't know what had happened and didn't stop to ask. He raised his wand to sink the flailing figure into the floor up to its knees.

Then Neville got up, dusted himself off, and looked around just as a voice called, "Hi, there!" A girl in a familiar black leather uniform was coming across the room toward him. He looked her over. She was not Marie-too short and with rather more curves, he noted appreciatively (Lavender had never said he couldn't _look_). This girl's hair was jet black and worn in a long plait. She had a round, pretty face, dark eyes and copper-coloured skin. He'd seen her before in a dozen wizard photographs, waving and blowing kisses.

She trotted up to him, smiling. "Well hi, handsome! Don't tell me; I've seen your picture. You're...Neville?

"Right." Neville nodded. "And you must be Danielle--or do you prefer _Psyche_?"

"_Dani_ will do when we're alone, Neville." She squeezed his outstretched hand warmly.

Neville flushed a little. Harry had told him Dani was a flirt. Neville envisioned Lavender's scowling face. "Er, I should say--"

"I know, I know. Marie told me you're _so_ taken! But that was months ago, and things change. You can't blame a girl for trying, especially with a hunk like you."

By this time, Neville was as red as a beetroot. "Dani--"

Neville was saved from further embarrassment by a crash that shook the room. The giant was pounding at the floor, which continued to hold it, though the stone was beginning to crack. Neville sighed, selected a mace from one of the racks, and proceeded to apply a hefty thump to the base of the warrior's skull. The creature slumped over, out cold-at least Neville hoped so.

"Subtle," Dani teased. "I like it!"

Neville shook his head and grinned. "You remind me of Ginny Weasley. Do you know her?"

"Ginny would be Harry's new girlfriend, right? And she's Ron's little sister?" Dani turned serious for a moment. "Is she being good to him? 'Cause if she isn't--"

"As far as I can tell, everything's going fine," Neville reassured Dani. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Why are _you_ so interested?"

She caught his look and returned it squarely. "Harry's a good friend. A lot of us would get pissed if his feelings were hurt."

Neville left it alone. "I take it I've got you to thank for scaring the daylights out of old tin-trousers there? You projected something into its mind, if I understand what the others told me about you."

"That about covers it," Dani told him. "You're lucky, you know. I turned up in this room just as he knocked you down. If he'd taken your head right away, I couldn't have helped; I need time to get a 'read' on people. But he started talking, instead, so I had time to get to him. Why do these bad guys always stop to make cornball speeches when they've got you cornered?"

"Dunno. It's the Villain's Monologue thing, I suppose. They all have to do it." Neville's gaze swept the room. "Aha! That door wasn't there before. D'you suppose it's the way out?"

"The way out of this room, anyway," Dani noted. "But we might be in a frying-pan-and-fire situation."

Neville rubbed his chin. "We might, but I'd rather be somewhere-_anywhere_-else when his lordship over there wakes up."

"Point taken!" Dani agreed. "Lead on, big guy! I don't mind guarding your backside. You've got a nice ass."

"Dani! You're incorrigible!"

"I know. I get that all the time."

Neville laughed, but he waited for Dani to go through the door with him.

In a way, Lavender was glad she'd been separated from her friends. With any luck, they'd forget about last night by the time they met up again. Sharing a bed with Neville had seemed so natural; it wasn't as if they hadn't done it before. Family commitments had meant they hadn't seen each other for a week or so, and they'd wanted a little intimate talk and a proper cuddle. But then they'd got a bit carried away, and though they'd done their best to be quiet about it, they hadn't been able to help themselves. It seemed that only those in the adjacent beds had heard anything, though, and Seamus, bless his heart, had said nothing. Luna, however, had asked Lavender about her night, and made some pointed remark about letting things get on top of her!

Lavender sighed. She'd live it down, she supposed, and truth be told, the chance of being overheard had sort of made things more exciting than usual. At least Neville was scrupulous about taking his potion every week, so there'd be no little surprise in a few months' time.

Now, where was she? This part of the Labyrinth looked a little run-down in Lavender's opinion. Like Muggle mines, wooden props supported the rough walls, but the props looked none too sturdy. Lavender ventured forward, looking to left and right as she went.

She was still taken by surprise, however, when a figure emerged from the shadows and seized her arm. She shrieked; the thing let go and staggered back as if struck. Lavender studied her assailant: It was about five feet tall and covered in shaggy, matted fur. The thing had a face like a bat, with huge ears but tiny eyes, and it smelt really rank. As she stood there, the creature bared a set of vicious-looking fangs and snarled at her before charging again.

"_Stupefy!_" The creature dropped like a stone, but suddenly there were more--lots more--of them, far too many to Stun. Lavender stood unsure of what to do. A fireball would _not_ be wise in this narrow tunnel; she would set herself alight. She could trap them in the floor, but that would leave their arms free to grab her as she tried to get past, and they were shoulder to shoulder.

Then rough arms clutched at her from behind and she screamed. The grip dropped away and she spun to see one of the creatures lying on the floor, clutching at its head. She whirled to see that the front rank of the creatures had fallen back. _Why?_

Lavender suddenly made the leap--those _ears_! The things must be sensitive to sound. Lavender held her wand to her throat, muttering, "_Sonorous!_"

Then she began to yell her head off. She screamed and shouted and sang at the top of her magically amplified lungs, all the time advancing on her opponents. The things retreated, clutching their heads, and melted back into the shadows. Finally, they were all gone, and Lavender stopped shouting, only to hear an ominous rumbling!

She jumped back as a large part of the roof caved in, smothering her in choking dust. After a deal of coughing and spluttering, Lavender was able to take stock of her surroundings again. They had changed for the worst. The way ahead was completely blocked by the rock fall. Water was trickling into the tunnel from some unknown source. _Now what do I do?_

Lavender tried transfiguring a few rocks in front of her into Bludgers that smacked into the rubble, but it became obvious that the fall was too thick and deep. The water was rising; she would be engulfed before long. The water pressure could move the barrier only to sweep her into a flow of crushing, sharp rocks. She was a strong swimmer, but even so!

_Hmm. The fall might be thinner at the top. Yes!_ She could see a gap up there. Lavender began to scramble up, thankful that she had worn Muggle-style jeans and a T-shirt to Harry's supposed meeting in deference to Neville, who liked seeing her figure in the tighter Muggle clothing. She reached the top, but the gap was too small for her. Hermione would have wriggled through it like an eel, Lavender thought, but her shoulders were too broad. Then she heard a low whistle, and an unfamiliar male voice with a familiar accent said, "Jeez! Somebody sure brought down the house!"

"Hello?" Lavender called through the gap, craning her neck to see. "Who's that? Can you help me? I'm trapped up here!"

She heard footsteps, then a gangly figure in black stepped into view, calling up into the gap. "Who's there? Are you one of Harry's friends?"

"Yes. Are you an X-Man?"

"Damned straight. Need some help?"

"Yes! There's water pouring in here, too!"

"Then let's get moving. Is there anywhere up there you can get out of the way?"

"There are a few scooped out places in the rock..."

"OK, get into one. I'll count to twenty, then I'm comin' through, and it'll be messy."

"Right." As Lavender shrank into a niche, she heard the counting. She had just settled back when the rockfall exploded outwards with a deafening racket. The X-Man crashed through it. Lavender caught a fleeting glimpse of the young man, or at least his lower half, which was a column of smoke and flame--as he shot past her.

The next she saw through yet more flying dust was his lanky figure drop to the ground and run or stagger a few steps till he regained his balance. He turned at once and dashed to her. He said, "I'm getting better at that. Used to land on my butt every time!"

The roof was creaking ominously, so he reached up for her hand. "The whole place will be coming down around our ears. Let's go!"

However he had done it, Lavender's rescuer had cleared a broad path through the fall. The pair of them ran for it, finally reaching a point where a broad corridor of dressed stone crossed the tunnel they were in. They darted up this new corridor a little way, until they heard a rumble and crash that had a distinct sound of finality to it. They doubled back to see that the tunnel behind them was irrevocably blocked. They both sighed and relaxed.

The lanky X-Man suddenly realized he was holding the pretty, young witch's hand. He released his fingers, but Lavender held on. She turned to look at him. He was tall, around six feet, with limbs that seemed to go on forever. His face was honest and open, not handsome as such, but very likeable. His hair was fair and cropped short. Lavender recognised him from the photographs she had seen. "Sam Guthrie, isn't it? Hello, I'm Lavender Brown. Thanks!"

"You're welcome," he mumbled, looking at his feet and still trying to let go of her hand. Lavender gave his hand one more gentle squeeze, then let go, shaking her head.

"Hermione told me you were shy around girls, but I don't bite, Sam."

He looked her in the eye and shrugged. "I'm OK when the others are around. It's just we're alone and...and--"

"And Rahne isn't around to protect you?"

This time he laughed out loud, and Lavender joined in. "Don't worry, Sam, I've got a lovely boyfriend of my own, so I'm not after your virtue."

"Roberto would make some crack about that being a damned shame!"

"Roberto? He's...Sunspot? And you're Cannonball. I've heard about you, but I wouldn't have believed what you just did if I'd not seen it."

"All part of the package," Sam said simply. He was obviously more at ease now, so Lavender relaxed. She'd never expected to have to be motherly to a great, lanky lad like this. Well, not for a few years, anyway.

"Are all of you here?" she asked.

"All of us from Rogue's team. Cyclops and the senior X-Men went up to your school. Something big's going down. Nobody'll tell us what."

"Oh. Well, I daresay they'll tell us when they're ready. Either that or Harry will find out somehow."

Sam chuckled. "He's one of a kind, that Harry. But right now, we're on our own. What should we do?"

"What were you doing before you found me?"

"I was just following this corridor. I passed the tunnel mouth and heard the fall, so I went to see if anyone was hurt."

"Thank Merlin you did! Well, Sam, I think we'd better just carry on as you were, OK?"

"Yeah, sounds right to me, Lavender. Let's go."

Wolfsbane had transformed into her semi-human shape to negotiate the corridor where she'd been sent. After a few steps, she learned there were blowpipes in the walls that shot darts. She assumed the darts were poisoned. Using her Mutant powers, her Danger Room training and a dedication to _Tomb Raider_ games, she got through unscathed.

Changing back to Rahne, she read a plaque set into the wall above an archway: _The shortest route is not the straightest_. _What did that mean?_ It meant, she soon found, that she had to make her way through a vast, decidedly surreal, chamber whose numerous ramps, stairs and ladders managed to defy the laws of geometry and physics. This was real migraine-inducing stuff, and Rahne was at her wit's end, when she caught a whiff of something in the air.

Rahne seldom wore perfume and confined herself to unscented toiletries. Wolverine had taught her that heavy chemical smells would confuse and mask her wolf senses. Now she sniffed the air, another girl had been through here-someone she knew! The perfume was that expensive stuff Bobby had given Marie for her birthday, Tommy Something or other. Well, that made things easier!

Rahne took off her communicator, popping it into a pouch that hung on a short chain around her neck, then shifted to wolf. The adaptive polymer of her uniform shifted to accommodate her, and became invisible. Wolfsbane quested around for a second, found Rogue's scent, and began to follow it.

Wolfsbane followed Rogue's painstaking explorations in half the time it had taken Rogue, since Wolfsbane's animal instincts were not so easily led astray by the maze's optical illusions. The scent eventually led to the top of a steep slope, with a gaping hole at the bottom of it. Across the way, an equally steep slope also led down to the gap, and another scent wafted over, male and familiar, but she couldn't place it.

Wolfsbane half-trotted, half-slithered down the slope, dropping into the gap to land lightly on the cushioning surface below. Both scents were strong here, and she finally recognized the male one- Hawk! There was also a whiff of something else. Wolfsbane knew the smell of sex, she'd caught it often enough on Dani and Roberto, and more recently on Bobby and Marie, since they got that potion. This wasn't actual sex, but it was close-_attractant pheromones_, Professor McCoy called them. Her mind split two ways for a moment: Rahne thought _that was a close one_; Wolfsbane merely wondered why this magnificent Alpha pair were not mates. Wolves mated for life, unlike most humans.

Wolfsbane shook herself, and then followed the trail through the open door and down a long passage. Her keen ears caught sounds--two voices shouting amid hissing and yowling. Her hackles rose. Wolfsbane sprinted down the corridor, barking loudly.

Harry and Marie had followed the corridor, talking easily. They had only met briefly in person twice, though they'd become acquainted through a regular email correspondence. Now, however, as Marie let go of Harry's hand and took his arm in a familiar fashion, they seemed quite at home together. If anything, the moment that had passed between them had removed any kind of awkwardness there might have been.

Being who they were, they filled each other in on developments. Harry told her about the puzzle in the first room, and then had to laugh as Marie told him how the X-Men had completely sidestepped it. They pieced together what they knew of the mysterious Amagor and speculated that, because the tests in the Labyrinth were intended for wizards, the presence of the young Mutants might well throw a considerable spanner into Amagor's works.

Then the corridor opened out onto a- garden! It was a large, well-kept English garden on a summer afternoon.

"Now what in Merlin's name...?" began Harry, then Marie yelled and shoved him to one side as a huge paw came down where they had been standing.

The paw belonged to a black and white cat the size of an elephant! The cat gazed hungrily at the two young people, and set about stalking them with typically feline ruthlessness and efficiency. Harry knew that Rogue's power would be of no help here, so tackling the brute was up to him.

By staying wide apart, the two teenagers were able to divide the animal's attention. If it got too close to one of them, the other could distract it; however, finding a suitable spell was proving difficult. For all its size, the thing had cat-like reflexes and agility and showed an uncanny knack for dodging Harry's spells. Those that did strike home gave rise to only one effect. The cat was wearing a collar, from which hung a clear green stone; if a spell struck at or near the cat, the stone lit up for a second. _The stone must be absorbing the magic,_ thought Harry. _I have to get the collar off._

The next instant, they all heard a menacing baying from the entrance. For all its size and magical enhancement, the cat was still a cat. At the sound of a traditional opponent, the animal swivelled to face the newcomer with back arched, fur on end, tail stiff.

Harry saw his chance. "_Diffindo!_" he shouted, making a slashing motion with his wand. The collar parted and the green stone fell to the ground, where it shattered. The cat promptly shrank to a normal size while turning tail and running for the nearest tree as the sleek, red-furred young wolf charged into the garden.

It took Rogue and Harry quite some time to get Wolfsbane's attention. She jumped at the trunk of the tree, baring her teeth at the cat crouching on upper branches. Finally, Rahne managed to restrain her animal self's excitement, changing back to human form and turning to greet her friends.

She and Marie hugged warmly before Rahne put out a shy hand to Harry. "Hello, Harry. It's nice to see you, again."

Harry looked at the hand for a moment, then at Rogue, who winked and nodded. He grinned and said, "Oh, give over, Rahne!" and pulled her into a hug, kissing her firmly on the cheek before releasing her, saying, "It's been too long since I saw you for a handshake to do, you know."

Rahne had hugged him back, but now she shook her head in mock disapproval. "Och, ye've spent far too much time with that Dani! What would Ginny have to say aboot this, now?"

Harry laughed. "She'd be too busy hugging Bob or Peter to say much. My Ginny's a cuddly girl."

"He's a terrible man, did I not tell ye?" said Rahne to Marie.

"Well, sugah, he'll surely suit Ginny, then," Marie returned.

"Hey!" expostulated Harry. "If you two are going to start ganging up on me--"

At that, they converged on him, one of them taking each of his arms. "There's safety in numbers, Harry," said Rahne. "The only woman who can cope with _you _single-handedly is Hermione."

"_She's_ known you so long she's developed an immunity," added Marie.

"Immunity to what?" asked Harry.

"Oh, the movie-star looks, the dazzling smile, the innocent charm, that tight little butt..." Marie said airily.

"And dinna forget the expertise in love potions!" added Rahne.

"Do you two mind? Besides, I hope I haven't learned a single thing about potions," Harry said wholeheartedly. Nonetheless, he was going crimson.

"Get over it," said Marie, giving him a little peck on the cheek. "We're just teasing. C'mon, there's a gate over there. Let's go find some more trouble to get into."

"Oh, _yuck!_" yelled Ginny as she released yet another fireball. The ten-foot earthworm shrivelled and died as the others had done, but more of them were wriggling out of the humus walls of the damp tunnel.

"Shake it," said Ariel. "Our best chance is to keep moving until we find stone or rock!"

"It's all right for you; they can't _touch _you. If one of them touches my skin, I'll puke!"

"What's up?" asked Ariel as they moved on. They had been walking along when they noticed that the tunnel walls had changed from dry rock to moist earth. Then the giant worms had begun squirming out of the walls and making for them with obviously unfriendly intentions. In Kitty's view, Ginny had rather overreacted, responding with a fusillade of fireballs and Dessicatum spells. It had taken a few tries before Ariel had convinced her uneasy ally to keep moving.

Ginny reluctantly explained, "I've got a thing about creepy-crawlies. We all have, in our family. With Ron, it's spiders that freak him out. Bill doesn't like ants and--Take _that_, you slimy bastard! - Mum's terrified of maggots. I don't like worms and slugs or anything slimy and squishy."

"Hmm. I wonder if that's why we're in this part of the Labyrinth?" Kitty said.

"Do you have a phobia, too?" Ginny inquired.

"Not about bugs, no. But then I'm not a witch, am I?"

"You managed to charm Harry," Ginny said acidly.

"Don't start! All I meant was that maybe the Labyrinth doesn't know what to do with me."

"I've got some ideas," muttered Ginny, incinerating yet another worm.

Ariel chose to ignore that last comment. "Ginny, it's opening out ahead."

There was indeed a large chamber at the end of the tunnel. Directly opposite the entrance was a nearly identical exit. As the two girls came to the centre of the chamber, they realised that the worms were no longer emerging from the soil.

Ginny heaved a sigh of relief and turned to Kitty. "Look, I got a bit snappy in there. I'm sorry."

"Forget it. We can claw each other's eyes out later, OK? Right now, we have to concentrate on finding the others and a way out of here."

"How about that tunnel over there? I can't see another way, can you? I'll just bet there's more worms and things through there, though."

"Hold on--There's a gallery or something up there."

A kind of balcony or gallery circled the chamber some ten feet above the girls' heads. There was no apparent way to reach it, no staircase or ladder or slope. Kitty wondered if it had once been a space for an audience to watch what went on in this chamber. Then she heard a wholly unpleasant sound coming from the tunnel she and Ginny were about to enter.

Ginny's face went from white to green to grey. "Jupiter! Now I _am_ going to throw up!"

"I think I'll join you," moaned Kitty.

The other worms had been big, but this one was colossal. As it squeezed its bulk though the tunnel's mouth, it swelled even more. It advanced across the chamber toward them, huge blunt head questing blindly, surrounded by a reek of damp decay.

Kitty asked Ginny, "Can you use those spells you were using before?"

"Yes... no...I'm not sure. The spells might work on bits of it, but it's so bloody big!" Ginny was fighting down panic, and doing, Kitty thought, a heckuva job. Maybe her successor _was_ good enough for Harry, after all.

"I can phase us both through it..."

"Gods, no! I'd go screaming mad. You go. I'll just...take my chances."

"No way! I'm not leaving without you." _I couldn't face Harry, _Kitty didn't add.

Ginny reassessed the girl she still thought of as a rival. _Brave and loyal, even though she has good reason to wish me dead. Maybe she isn't so bad._

"Try your spells, anyway," Ariel urged.

Ginny steeled herself to summon the biggest fireball she could manage. "I'll do my best."

Kitty closed her eyes. The darkness went red, and she felt a massive surge of heat followed by the acrid stench of burning. She opened her eyes to see the blackened hulk of the worm giving its last twitches. "Wow!" she marvelled. "That was awesome, Ginny!"

"It wasn't me," admitted the little redhead, as she lowered her wand. "It came from the gallery behind us." Both girls peered toward the balcony, from which an X-Man swooped gracefully to land near by.

"Sunfire!" Kitty cried with relief.

Shiro bowed. "_Konnicihi wa,_ Ariel-san. You are well?"

"I am now!" Kitty wanted to hug Shiro, but knew that the formally raised young samurai would only be embarrassed. A flick of his eyes towards Ginny indicated that he wanted an introduction. Kitty took Ginny's arm and brought her forward. "Ginevra Weasley, this is Shiro Yoshida-_Sunfire_ of the X-Men."

Shiro bowed again. "I am honoured. You are the sister, yes, of Ronald-san? Yours must be an ancient and honourable family if one measures by the courage of its youngest members."

Ginny blushed prettily and returned the bow with natural grace. "Thank you, er, Sunfire. The Weasleys _are_ an old Wizarding family, and we've always done our best."

"Many a hero might say no more, Ginevra-san."

"Oh, call me _Ginny_, or...or _Firebird_, if you like that better."

"Firebird, then. It is, I think, suitable." Sunfire nodded approvingly. "If you will excuse me? I must ensure that your erstwhile opponent offers no further threat." He bowed once more and went over to inspect the carcass of the worm.

Kitty looked curiously at Ginny. "_Firebird_?"

"It's my call-sign. Harry chose it for me. Which reminds me..." Ginny pulled her communicator out of her pocket, and slipped it over her ear. "What channel are you all on?"

"Tac One," Ariel said automatically. "How do you know--?"

"Harry taught me how to use this thing."

"Harry's taught you a lot!"

"Well, _I've_ taught _him_ a few things--some things _you_ never got round to," Ginny said archly. Kitty went pink, and Ginny immediately felt sorry. She realised she'd pushed too far, so she changed the subject, jerking her head at Shiro. "Is he always like that-so uptight?"

Kitty shrugged. "It's his way. He comes from a Japanese samurai family, and he was taught to be formal. You won't find a more loyal friend, though." She called to Shiro, "We have to figure out a way to get out of here or set up camp. I, for one, don't fancy dining on Japanese-style fried worm-even if it is extra crispy!"

"Blech!" groaned Ginny. "Did you have to say that?"

Kitty smirked, observing that Shiro, as always, was mildly puzzled by the by-play. He focused on the matter at hand. "I heard you shouting as I passed along a side passage that brought me to the gallery. We can leave that way."

"Excellent!" said Kitty. She held out a hand to Ginny. "C'mon, I can air-walk us up there."

"Er, I'd really rather not," Ginny refused, grimacing. "I was queasy before, what with giant worms and your sick jokes. My stomach can't handle any more."

"Allow me, Firebird," said Sunfire.

He scooped Ginny up in his arms-she was surprised by his strength-and sprang lightly into the air, rising smoothly to land gently on the balcony. He set Ginny down just as Ariel trotted easily up and over the rail and down to the floor.

"I entered through this door," said Shiro. "Perhaps we should leave that way, and continue in the direction I was pursuing?"

"Why not?" Ginny reasoned, "I think whoever or whatever runs this place will make sure we end up where they want us to be. Let's hope we can find some of the others while we're at it."

As they left, both Ginny and Kitty realised that they were grateful for Shiro's presence. A third person in the group stopped them from sniping at each other.

"And isn't it always the daftest thing that'll catch you out?" huffed Seamus.

"What's the problem?" Dazzler asked. She was perched prettily on the arm of a wing chair in a room that resembled a Victorian gentleman's study. The entrance had vanished, leaving them only one exit, the door by which Seamus now stood, pulling at his lip in frustration.

"It's these Wizarding locks, Alison. They're simple enough to open one at a time, but the Devil's in it, for both need to be open at the _same_ time, and for that we need another wizard. Whichever way round I do it, as soon as I start on the second lock, the first one closes!"

Seamus blew out his cheeks. He was getting terribly frustrated. Alison jumped to her feet ready to assist the wizard she now felt was a friend. Seamus was upbeat and funny and nice enough looking. They might not get as far as a romance, Alison thought, but nothing was wrong with a little flirting, and her new friend needed encouragement. "Seamus, leave that a minute and come here!" she urged.

He lowered his wand, smiling tiredly. "I'm sorry, Alison, I just can't see a way round these bloody locks!"

"Then stop trying so hard," she chided. "Seamus, my _special_ friends call me _Ali_. Now you come here!"

She put her arms around him and held him tightly. After a moment, his arms came round her and returned the hug. Alison continued to hold Seamus until she felt him relax and heard him sigh, and then she kissed him firmly on the cheek. "There! Isn't that better?"

Seamus stepped back when she released him. "That it is! Thanks, Ali. But I've got to take another stab at the door." Before he reached it, he stopped, nonplussed, at the sound of a knock on the other side.

A voice came through the barrier. "Hello? Is there anyone in there?"

"Padma?" called Seamus. "Is it yourself?"

"It was last time I looked! Are you OK?"

"We're stuck in here, me and one of the X-Men. Can you see the locks?"

"No locks this side. Why?"

"There's two in here that have to be opened at the same time and I can't manage it. Can you Apparate in?"

"Er, I might be able to..."

Just then, Padma was interrupted by another voice, a bass rumble Seamus recognised. "No need for that. Seamus, stand back, pal."

Seamus jumped back from the door. There was the sound of a thunderous blow, and the door fell into the room; a giant figure loomed beyond it.

"Peter! Merlin, but you're a sight for sore eyes!"

Colossus transformed into his human form and grasped Seamus' hand. "Still getting in over your head, I see. Is that Alison?"

"Hiya, Petey! How's tricks?"

"Magical, unfortunately," Peter said sourly.

"Tell me about it! Now, who's that with you? You been making conquests again, Petey?"

While he rolled his eyes, Padma and Alison introduced themselves, promptly beginning to chatter nineteen to the dozen. Peter filled Seamus in on what had happened to him, how he had appeared in the Water Room to be rescued by Padma, and how they had travelled on together.

The next room Padma and Peter encountered had been filled with impassable curtains of fire. Padma had noticed a channel worn into the floor. With considerable effort, she had summoned the waters from the tunnel they had just left to provide a safe, if somewhat steamy, path through this trial. The final room represented earth. As they entered it, rocks came alive, forming into manlike shapes that advanced on them.

At this point, Padma broke away from her conversation with Dazzler to take up the tale. She told Seamus and Alison that she'd been too weary to dispel the Earth Elementals; instead, Colossus had hammered a path with his pile-driving fists through the menacing rocks.

The four left the gentleman's study and walked until they found a blank wall into which was set a simple, wooden door.

"I know this place," Padma realised. "Seamus, it's the room where we slept last night. Have we been in this Labyrinth another whole day?"

"Feels like longer," replied Seamus. "I hope there's food!" He pushed open the door. The warm yellow light of Sanctuary flooded out along with a chorus of enthusiastic, welcoming voices.

**Chapter 7: Reunions and Reassurance**

Walking beside Ron, Parvati still felt awkward. She was surprised to find that her feelings for this amiable giant cut less deep than the suspicion that she had somehow betrayed Hermione. Then again, it wasn't as if Ron were the _only_ person Parvati fancied; he was just her current favourite. There was charismatic Harry, of course, and Seamus was nice--if only he didn't act the div so often!

Thinking back, it seemed to Parvati that she had a decided weakness for Weasleys. Not Percy, who had a broomstick up his bum, but there was nothing wrong with Fred! The Weasley twins were only two years older than the Patil sisters, and she and Padma had spent many an hour fantasising about them. Happily, Padma preferred George. In the end, though, all their imaginings had come to nothing. The Patil family had gone very native, but the girls were still too modest to approach boys openly and the twins had been too preoccupied with their own particular species of devilment to pay much attention to girls.

Still and all, the Patils had been invited to Ginny's birthday party in a few days' time. Fred and George were bound to be there. The rules changed at a party, and, anyway, Parvati was getting tired of being the quiet Gryffindor. So she would have a word with Padma, and just maybe...

With that decided, Parvati suddenly felt a lot better. She turned to Ron, asking, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? You usually talk the hind leg off a donkey, but you've gone all quiet."

"Hmm? Oh," Ron glanced down at her. "Sorry. I was wool-gathering. Miles away."

He began to chat as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Parvati had a shrewd idea that he'd been letting her get herself sorted out for the last little while. For all the daft-as-a-brush image he projected, Ron was one of the more perceptive people she knew.

Then the corridor opened out into a kind of arena. Ron and Parvati found themselves on a balcony, overlooking a kind of square grid about thirty feet to a side on which four robed figures were playing a game.

"What's this?" whispered Parvati.

"Shh!" commanded Ron. "I think we'll be joining this game in a bit, so just watch!"

The robed figures worked in teams of two. One, standing on a podium above the grid, seemed to be directing the other in placing pieces on the board. The pieces were round, about a foot across, and positioned not on squares, but on the intersections of the grid, as in Go, the game Ron had learned in America. The pieces also had symbols on them. Ron and Parvati watched the game to its conclusion, then the nearest robed figure waved them imperiously down to the playing area.

As they descended the stairs, Parvati wondered, "Ron, do you know what to do? I haven't a clue."

Ron nodded. When he spoke, his voice had a tone Parvati had not heard before; it was crisp and precise. "It's an alchemical game. There are four types of piece: wood, fire, water and metal, but there's only one metal piece. Wood floats on water; fire burns wood and water puts out fire. That's how you take pieces--you put the right piece next to the one you want to take, but you can't take the metal piece. Also, the metal one can't capture, and it can only move by switching places with another of your pieces. The aim is to gain territory so you can turn metal into gold by getting it to your opponent's first row."

"Urgh!" Parvati groaned, shaking her head. "I'm glad _you_ understand it all."

He grinned reassuringly at her. "Don't worry, Parvati. I'll stand on the podium and direct you while you levitate the pieces where I tell you to, OK?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ron chuckled, and then mounted the podium. The robed figure bowed to him before vanishing. A gong sounded, and the game began.

Parvati never could tell how long the game took. It ebbed and flowed. Ron played cautiously until he got a feel for his opponent's strategy. Then he tried probing attacks, testing the other's defence. Quite suddenly, he went fully onto the offensive.

His faceless opponent had seemed unemotional up to then, but now the voice emanating from the depths of the hood began to rise as it directed the mover in increasingly desperate attempts to block Ron's relentless advance. The creature, whatever or whoever it was, had no way of knowing that it was up against one of the finest strategic minds in the Wizarding world. Parvati was once again amazed at the capacities that lay behind Ron's easy-going, slightly slow façade. She finally understood why Hermione, she of the razor-sharp mind, had chosen this man.

Finally, Parvati levitated the piece with the metal symbol onto the final row, and the thing changed to gold in a blaze of light. The gong sounded again. The robed figure bowed to Ron, and the entire arena vanished.

Ron and Parvati stood on a ledge above a chasm. At the other side of the crevasse, they could see a broad road that headed off to right and left as far as they could see. They looked all around them, and came to the only possible conclusion: There was only one way across.

"We'll have to Apparate," concluded Parvati. "Are you up for it?"

"Doesn't look like we've got a choice, does it? Go on three?"

"OK. One, two, _three_!"

There was a double boom, duplicated shortly after when the two of them reappeared on the roadway. "Phew!" gasped Ron. "Anything that happens after this is _definitely_ an improvement."

Parvati couldn't help but laugh. After everything they'd been through today, Ron had been most worried by a simple Apparation!

Then there was another boom, and Luna appeared nearby. She didn't stop to greet them, just waved them back. "Stand clear," she warned. They did as told, following her gaze to a quite remarkable sight.

There was another ledge, directly opposite the one they had crossed from, above a similar abyss. Coming towards them from it was a white, gleaming bridge. As it drew closer, they saw the black-clad figure at the end of it walking steadily along with one hand extended while the bridge grew in front of him. The road where they had been standing suddenly glazed with ice. Bob Drake stepped off the bridge he had made and smiled.

"Hi, Parvati. Good to see you again."

"_Bob!_ You really _did_ come," Parvati breathed with excitement, jumping forward to embrace him.

"Of course, we came," Iceman told her. "Like Marie said, we take care of our own."

Parvati squeezed him again. "Oh, it's lovely to see you!" Then she led him over to Ron. "I don't think you two have ever met properly. Bob Drake, this is Ron Weasley."

Bob gripped Ron's hand heartily. "We've met in passing. Hunter, you're out of uniform!"

"Undercover work, you know," Ron said airily. "Besides, that leather makes you sweat in places I can't mention in front of the ladies."

Bob threw back his head and roared. This Hunter was going to be a man after his own heart.

The two girls shook their heads despairingly. "Men!" said Parvati. Luna noted, "I've always known that Ron Weasley was a bad influence. Bob was a perfect gentleman until five minutes ago."

"Uh-oh," Bob informed Ron. "They're onto you!"

"They've been onto me-and on _at_ me--for years, Bob. It's Hell, but you get used to it."

One direction seemed as good as another, so the four began to walk, joking back and forth.

Hermione and Roberto strolled along the corridor, exchanging news about what had gone on since they last saw each other. Not that they hadn't written, but there were all those little details that don't get into letters. Roberto wanted to know how Harry and Ginny were doing, pointing out that not only Kitty, but Dani, Marie and Rahne as well, felt very protective towards Hawk. Any failure on Ginny's part to make him happy would have dire consequences!

In turn, Hermione quizzed Roberto about Kitty and Peter. She'd become quite close to Ariel, but hardly knew Colossus, and wanted to be sure they were suited.

So engrossed was she in the conversation, that Hermione barely noticed when Roberto slipped a companionable arm around her waist; in fact, without thinking, she put her arm around him.

Then the floor vanished! The two of them dropped a couple of feet onto a long slope that carried them for quite some time. Roberto wrapped his arms protectively around Charm, changing into his Sunspot form with what stored energy he had. Fortunately their slide, though rapid, was smooth, and they finally plumped down onto a dusty mattress or cushion, unhurt but a little breathless.

Sunspot changed back to Roberto just as Hermione realised she was lying in his arms. He grinned, and as she was about to say something, he leaned in and kissed her. It was not a deep, passionate kiss, but neither was it a friendly peck. It was light and soft and sweet--_like meringue,_ Hermione thought afterwards. Hermione was split three ways: her head told her to push him away and slap him; her heart pointed out that this was just Roberto and there was no harm in him; her body said _shut up and enjoy yourself, girl!_ In the end, she went with her body, since the kiss was a short one.

He pulled back and smiled at her. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed it," she retorted, "because that's the only one you get, Mr DaCosta! What d'you think would happen if I told Ron?"

Roberto shrugged. "He'd either laugh or pulverize me. I'll take my lumps, if I have to."

"Oh? What chance would Ron have against you?"

Roberto turned serious. "Hermione, you _don't_ use your powers on a teammate unless it's life or death. Anyway, Hunter's smart enough to get me where there's no sunlight, and man-to-man I'm no match for him. Even Peter would have his hands full.

"Anyway, it's no big deal," he reasoned. "You know how I am. Dani would do the same with Ron if she got a chance. You're hot, you know, so I want to kiss you. Your English guys may have forgotten that it's nice to kiss a pretty girl, but we Latins haven't! So relax, and chill. You're still Hermione Granger-not Mrs. Ron Weasley."

He was so disarming, so charmingly unapologetic, that Hermione couldn't be angry. She gave him a little hug. "Roberto, you're _impossible_! I won't tell Ron, but you mustn't _ever_ do that again..." She paused. "...Unless I tell you to! But right now, we'd better find out where we are."

It was not a very large room. There was an exit, across which a violet barrier flickered. Just inside the barrier were two familiar figures.

"Lavender? Sam?" There was no response. Hermione and Roberto squinted at the motionless pair. "They're paralysed," Hermione decided. "But how?"

"They look as if they just stepped through that barrier," Roberto noticed.

"That's probably it, then. I wonder...maybe they came into this room from the wrong direction."

"Why would they do that? If this place is for testing wizards, I'd think that the designers would make sure people got to the tests in the right sequence."

Hermione put a finger to her lips, concentrating. "Hmm... I think the keyword there is _wizards_. You're not a wizard, neither is Sam or any of the X-Men. If your presence here has thrown the Labyrinth out of kilter, anything could happen. Let's take a closer look."

The room turned out to be a fully equipped Potions laboratory, but the ingredients cupboard was empty. Hermione stood in front of it, frowning, until Roberto called to her, "Come look at this!"

On the main table a book lay open next to a large hourglass. Hermione read: _To pass the Barrier of Time, you have what you need for one turn of the glass._

"Ah! So they're _not_ paralysed. They're just slowed down somehow." She ran a hand along the hourglass. "Right. Now, if I've understood this, when I turn the glass, the ingredients should appear in the cupboard, and I'll have an hour to make the potion we need. I'm thinking that it's a Speed Potion.

"The problem is that I'll also need a Restore Potion for Lavender and Sam, and I'll have to make them both at the same time. There are quills and parchment here, so I'm going to write down the recipes first. Roberto, you start that fire going, and get me two cauldrons."

Roberto, of course, had no magical way to start the fire, a detail Hermione had forgotten. Fortunately, Wolverine had insisted that a cigarette lighter be included with the X-Men's standard equipment. Roberto soon had a fire started, and by then Hermione was ready. She handed him a bit of parchment covered with her large, clear writing.

"OK, I'm going to turn the glass. I want you to grab the things on this list-hopefully they will be labelled-and bring them over to the table, quick as you can. Then you'd better stay out of my way, because I'm going to be in a tizz. And when I'm in a tizz, I bite!"

She turned the glass, and the cupboard obligingly filled with bottles, jars and boxes. Roberto moved fast, grabbing items off the shelf and taking them to the table. Then he retreated to a corner, sitting cross-legged on the floor and watching Hermione. She didn't seem to be in a "tizz", whatever that was. She worked quickly and methodically, her lower lip caught in her teeth as she concentrated. As he studied her, Roberto couldn't help but think, _Jeez, that Ron is one lucky guy!_

By the time the sands ran out, Hermione had two cauldrons bubbling merrily over the fire. After a while, she lifted one off and cast a cooling spell on it. "Roberto, take some of this and drizzle it over our two friends over there. Not too much-no need to soak them."

"Yes, ma'am!" He bowed to her, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Sam and Lavender were understandably confused when they recovered. Roberto explained things while Hermione watched the last cauldron. Then she called, "Right! It's done!"

"Soup's on," said Roberto. "I hope you're a good cook."

"Oh, once tasted, never forgotten," Hermione promised.

This was unfortunately true. Sam grimaced. "Yuck! Tastes like an old sweatsock with a dash of rotten anchovy."

"Nobody cooks like our Hermione," said Lavender, looking a little green around the gills.

"OK, so I'm no Delia Smith, but it'll get us through that barrier. Now, let's go!"

As they went, Lavender asked, "Delia _who_?"

Danielle Moonstar was ready to howl with frustration. For an hour, she had tried every trick in the book to get a rise out of Neville. Well, to be fair, he _had_ responded to her flirting--the same way Harry and Ron had done, with a witty restraint Dani found infuriating.

What _was_ it with these English guys? By now, she'd have gotten to Bobby or Peter. Even Sam, whose parents were seriously religious and had raised him to be uptight, would have shown more interest than Neville. Neville was tall, built, foxy, and funny; he had everything going for him. He definitely liked girls. Was he just afraid of pissing off his girlfriend?

No, it wasn't that. Ron had been standoffish, too, and not just because of Hermione. Dani had spent most of the spring trying to get somewhere--anywhere--with Ron and Harry. She knew they both liked her; her Mutant powers made that clear. No, they were just inhibited. _Tell an English guy you think he's hot, and he'll either make some crack about you needing an eye exam or go bright red and start mumbling to his shoes! Weird._

Dani shook her head. Kitty had been giving Harry the green light from the get-go, but it had taken him a whole _week_ to get the message. Even worse, that pair had been dating the whole spring and Harry (according to Kitty) hadn't made any serious moves. Dani hoped this Ginny was having better luck.

Dani couldn't stand it anymore. "Neville, am I such a dog?"

"Pardon?" Neville gave her a puzzled look.

"Am I ugly? Do I have bad breath? Am I fat?" she inquired. "I've been trying to get your attention, like, all afternoon, and you're treating me like your sister!"

"I _have_ been paying attention," Neville insisted. "And I don't have a sister."

"Wrong _kind_ of attention," Dani huffed, resisting the impulse to shake him. "Polite conversation is OK, in its place. But we're alone, and you're a guy, and I'm a girl and, well..."

Neville said, "Dani, I'm going out with Lavender."

"Sure, but she's not here! Jeez, Neville, I'm not talking about getting down, but a hug or a kiss could be fun. Lavender doesn't have to know."

He stared at her. "_I'd_ know." He stopped, reached out and took her gently by the shoulders. "If we were both free, you'd be up there on my wish-list, I promise you. But we're not free. I don't know what the rules are over the water, but here it's simple-hands off! Now, let's not fall out, please? Especially over something as silly as this."

Dani shrugged. "What can I say?" She sighed. "Somebody oughta teach you Brits how to cut loose once in a while."

"Remarkable," said a third voice, deep and rich. Dani and Neville spun round. They had arrived in a large, empty, circular room with several corridors branching from it. In the centre of the room stood a figure at least seven feet tall, with white skin, jet hair, golden eyes and a slim, androgynous body. The being's face was perfectly balanced, utterly beautiful, but it was impossible to tell from the features or the voice whether this was a male or female. Yet, something about it seemed male.

It spoke again, turning to Neville. "You I know, young Gryffindor. You have all the marks of your House: honour, valour, loyalty and truth."

Neville straightened his shoulders. "I take it you're Amagor?"

Amagor inclined his head. "I am. Now hold your peace, Gryffindor. I am not here for you." He turned to Dani. "You, I do not know. You are no witch, but I sense power in you. You are of no House, yet you also bear the marks of Gryffindor. You come not from this Island of the Mighty; your origins lie to the West of the Blessed Isles and the sunken realms. Speak! Tell me who and what you are. Show me your power."

Dani drew herself up. "I am called Psyche, of the X-Men," she said formally, matching Amagor's tone. "I am a daughter of chiefs and shamans, and my tribe is ancient. I travel in friendship with my brother of Gryffindor. I am a Mutant--and _this _is my power!"

Amagor cried out, clapping his hands over his eyes. Then he dropped his hands, and his eyes glowed a brighter gold. Dani groaned and staggered.

"Dementor!" snarled Amagor. "Denizen of darkness!"

He pointed a finger. A bolt of lightning arced at the defenceless Psyche, but Neville was already in front of her, invoking "_Protego!_". The lightning dissipated against his magical shield. Amagor growled like an animal, and Neville's wand wrenched out of his hand to skitter across the room.

The djinn charged, underestimating his opponent. Neville was not as skilled as Harry or Ron- yet-but he knew enough to send Amagor to the floor with a crash. Neville darted for his wand, but Amagor seized his ankle, spilling him to the floor. The djinn leapt to his feet, lightning once again crackling in the palm of his hand, only to be knocked aside by a flying kick from a recovered Psyche.

There was a pause. Neville got to his feet. Then Amagor gestured; a glowing, red-hot scimitar appeared in each of his hands and he began to advance on the two friends. As Neville and Psyche steeled themselves for what looked like a fight to the death, they suddenly heard the baying of a wolf. At the same moment, a familiar voice shouted, "_Expelliarmus!_", and the scimitars flew from Amagor's grasp. disappearing at once.

Neville seized his wand and swept it up before looking round. _Yes! It was Harry! And_ _Rogue was with him._ That meant that the young wolf baring its fangs at Amagor could only be Wolfsbane.

Nobody spoke; there was no need. The five friends spread out, surrounding Amagor. Wolfsbane growled deep in her throat. Harry and Neville menaced the djinn with their wands. Psyche reached out with her special senses and Rogue, face set, began to remove a glove.

Amagor held up both hands. "Enough!" he bellowed. "I call truce."

Harry asked, "Why should we trust you?"

"You have my oath in the name of Godric Gryffindor, and I call Merlin to witness!"

"OK, I'll take that for now," said Harry, "but I'll be watching you."

"It is well," replied Amagor. Then he turned and bowed respectfully to Psyche. "I ask your pardon, daughter of chiefs. I had taken you for a Dementor, clad in illusion, a thing bred in the deepest pits of abomination, but I see now that is not so. I should have seen the truth when this brave Gryffindor came to your aid, but my anger blinded me."

He looked around the circle. "So, we have three brave Gryffindors, though one is no witch, and also a shape-shifter. The young wizards of Hogwarts keep stranger company than aforetime, though no less worthy."

Amagor turned to Harry and bowed low. "To you, Dunadan, I give special greeting. It is an honour to test one of your unfailing Line."

He surveyed them all again. "This day draws to a close. Sanctuary awaits you. Rest well; tomorrow brings the Final Test. Peace be with you."

Amagor vanished with the sound of a gong. Rahne returned to her human form, and the five friends looked at each other for a moment. Marie dashed up to Neville with a cry of delight while Dani, Rahne and Harry exchanged a three-way hug. Then Marie was hugging Dani, and Neville and Harry were pounding each other on the back. After that, Rahne and Neville were introduced. Neville stuck out a hand, but Rahne said, "Oh, to the Divell with it!" and hugged him.

Dani focused on Neville. "OK, Mr. Neville Longbottom, you just saved my life back there, so this time let's have no excuses. Come _here_!"

She grabbed him round the neck, pulled his face down to hers, and calmly proceeded to kiss him in a way that was anything _but_ calm! For a moment, Neville didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, then he used them to hold Dani to him until she'd finished.

Eventually, she released him with the words, "There! I'll take my chances with Lavender. But, Neville, if that girl tries to dump you or to treat you badly because I kissed you, she'd damn well better be ready to take her chances with _me_! _Capice?_"

Neville eyed Dani. "Er, fine. But I don't think I'll tell her, if you don't mind."

"Now you're thinking," Dani said admiringly.

Marie was frowning at Harry. "Why did he call you 'Dunadan'? What does that mean?"

"Not a clue. Look, it's probably not important right now. Amagor said Sanctuary was waiting, and I'll bet we'll meet up with everyone else there-if they've survived," he added grimly. "Let's get going."

Despite Harry's reminder of the dangers they had all faced, nothing could really dampen the five youngsters' spirits as they set out down the one corridor that remained open.

The road between the chasms led to a normal passageway. Ron, Parvati, Luna and Bobby were proceeding along it with Luna explaining how she had decoded a magical scroll to open the door that had brought her to the ledge when four figures emerged from a doorway ahead of them.

"_Ron!_" shrieked Hermione. She was not usually demonstrative in public, but this time she positively flew into his open arms, and for a while the two were oblivious to anything else but each other.

There was much swapping of greetings; Hermione was introduced to Iceman, and the expanded group carried on together. Eventually, they came to an ordinary wooden door set into the corridor wall.

"Well," said Ron, "if that's the door I think it is, we're back where we started."

"Not really," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I'll bet Sanctuary is wherever it needs to be, like everything else here. We're outside normal time and space, I think."

"Some folk would say we've _never_ been inside normal time and space," said Luna dryly.

Just then, they heard a dreadful sound coming round a bend in the corridor. It had to be called _singing_, everyone supposed, but only just! The song was _Tainted Love_, and the five people busily murdering it came into view, singing lustily. To be fair, both Dani and Rahne knew the song, and had good voices. Neville also had a good voice, but was shaky on the lyrics. Though the remaining two knew the words, Marie was wildly off key and Harry, with the best will in the world, couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

Greetings were once again enthusiastic, and passionate between reunited couples. Finally, Harry led them through the door into Sanctuary. The room seemed larger than before, there were more bed alcoves and more seats at a longer table, but as yet no sign of Tully.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, and three figures stepped through. Harry had eyes only for the small, red-haired figure who ran to him from across the room. Then Ginny was holding him tight and her lips met his in one heated, lingering, loving kiss after another. They were so involved with each other that they didn't notice the final party appear, announced by Kitty's cry of joyful greeting to Peter.

Then the moment Ginny had been dreading arrived. She tried to hold Harry with one more kiss, but he put a finger to her lips and whispered, "Later. _Lots_ more later, love. I promise!" He looked around, and said, "_Kitty..._"

There was an answering cry of "_Harry!_" and Ginny had to watch, her insides churning, as the two of them held each other close, exchanging gentle kisses on the cheek and lips, and chattering happily with each other. Then the feeling in the pit of Ginny's stomach turned to another kind of butterflies altogether, as a large hand came down gently on her shoulder and a deep voice murmured, "Aren't you gonna say hi, babe?"

She turned, and squealed in delight as Peter swept her up in his mighty arms and swung her round. She grabbed him round his great neck and covered his face with kisses. When he finally set her down, she saw Kitty and Harry standing side by side. Harry's face had an indulgent smile on it- Kitty was looking daggers! _Gotcha!_ Ginny thought nastily.

For a while, there was good deal of milling around, as old friendships were renewed, and introductions were made. Ginny found herself being soundly hugged by Bob and Marie, and couldn't be jealous of the way Dani and Rahne made a fuss of Harry, if only because they made an equal fuss over Ron.

Then there was a sudden, loud _pop_ and Tully materialised. "Welcome again, young sirs and ladies. Tully has prepared the bathing rooms for you. Please to place your garments in the baskets, so that they may be cleaned for the morrow. Clothes suitable for the night have been laid ready for each of you."

"Thank goodness for that!" said Hermione. "I had visions of us all standing in a row, bums on show, rubbing our knickers through."

"Never thought of that," admitted Ron, "but I like the image."

"Men never do think of washing," remarked Hermione with some asperity. "Good thing there are women to look after them! You might not notice, but you're getting just the tiniest bit rank, Mr Weasley!" She poked him playfully in the ribs.

"Oof!" said Ron. Then, "Tully, any chance of some grub?"

"Food will be ready when you have bathed, young sir."

"Shouldn't we debrief first?" Rogue wondered.

"Over dinner," Harry decided. "I can't answer for anyone else, but my stomach thinks my throat's been cut."

The boys' bathing room was large and comfortably warm. There was a communal pool-bath, as well as basins with jugs of hot and cold water, plenty of soap and towels, and an assortment of cutthroat razors that only Shiro had the nerve to touch. Relaxing in the hot water, Harry joined in the usual horseplay, flicking of towels, telling of off-colour jokes and singing of bawdy songs. He wondered briefly what the girls were doing next door. It was probably very different, he thought-apart from the off-colour jokes, of course! Then Ron's rich baritone voice rose in a song:

_There were four-and-twenty virgins_

_Came down from Inverness_

_And when the ball was over_

_There were four-and-twenty less!_

_Singing..._

Everyone roared into the chorus and, for a while, life was good!

The lads lingered longer than they might usually have done over bathing. The water felt so good after their long day! The garments set out for them proved to be white linen tunics and trousers, rather like pyjamas, soft and comfortable. They still managed to return to the main room ahead of the girls, where they found a table laid ready and groaning with food.

While they were debating whether to wait before eating, the other door swung open and the ladies emerged in a cloud of fragrant steam. _There is something divinely sexy about a_ _woman straight from her bath_, Roberto thought. The white linen gowns the girls wore were long and modestly bulky, but didn't quite conceal their curves. He enjoyed the sight of faces innocent of makeup but still rosy from the warmth, loose, damp hair clinging prettily, bright eyes, and the wink of bare toes under the robes as they walked. Not forgetting that they were naked underneath. Roberto had to chide himself, _Down boy!_ _Fun and games later!_ as he met Dani's darkly smouldering glance.

"Let's eat!" said Rogue. Seamus noticed with quiet amusement how Harry automatically moved to the head of the table and Marie to the foot _like a Duke and Duchess, _he thought. He also noticed how the two groups, wizards and X-Men, intermingled easily as people sat down.

For a while, nobody said much, being too intent on taking the edge off his or her appetite. But, gradually, voices began to chime in with the details of everything that had happened during the day. Harry noticed something a little odd as Ron and Parvati gave their account of the Test of Honour. Parvati concluded by saying, "So I'm afraid I had to kiss your boyfriend to save his life, Hermione. I hope you don't mind. I promise I didn't enjoy it _too_ much."

Hermione shrugged. "What can I say but thanks, Parvati?" She squeezed Ron's arm, "I'd rather have him back slightly used than not at all. Anyway, a kiss is just a kiss." As she said that, Harry saw her eyes cut to Roberto, who suddenly became very interested in the bottom of his tankard. _Now then, now then..._ he thought wonderingly, _something going on there?_

After every angle of the trials had been examined, the conversation became more general. People talked in groups, and began to move around with the ebb and flow of the chat. Kitty and Peter planted themselves next to Harry and Ginny. Peter sighed. "Give me a full stomach and a tankard of butterbeer, and I'm one happy little Mutant!"

"Little?" scoffed Kitty.

"Two out of three ain't bad!"

"Peter's easily satisfied," remarked Ginny.

Kitty gave her a glance. "That would explain certain prior...involvements, wouldn't it?"

"Fifteen-Love," Harry muttered to Peter, as though scoring a tennis match.

"Hmm," said Ginny to Kitty. "It's a matter of learning to make do, I suppose."

"Fifteen-All," said Peter.

"I'd say that Peter--and Harry--never pass up a chance for better things when they're available," Kitty purred.

"Thirty-Fifteen."

"They're adaptable--ready to take advantage of any port in a storm," drawled Ginny.

"Thirty-All."

"Knowing how to handle situations comes down to experience," Kitty theorised. "_Lots_ of wide and varied experience. The more experience you have, the better you are at...most things."

"Forty-Thirty."

"Not every experience is valuable. Some are pointless or a waste of time, like self-pity and looking for sympathy..."

"Deuce!" declared Peter and Harry in chorus. Both girls turned to glare at their men. Harry and Peter stared back, wide-eyed. "What?" they inquired innocently until Peter put his head on the table and Harry leaned back in his seat, both howling with laughter.

The girls watched them for a moment, then exchanged knowing smiles. "They don't deserve us, do they?" Ginny observed to Kitty.

"Got that right," Kitty agreed. "No point in fighting over them. Truce?"

"For now," Ginny allowed.

Peter and Harry went in search of more butterbeer.

The evening drew on. When Seamus entertained himself by casting spells on the curtains of the alcoves, everyone wanted to know what he was up to. He explained, "Muffling spells--to stop sound getting out. I've been told I snore. I _know_ Ron does, and when Peter gets started--"

"It's bad," Alison guessed.

"You ever hear taped whale song?" asked Bob, who roomed with Peter at Xavier's.

"That's bad!"

Seamus grinned. "Well, I reckon we all want a good night's...sleep...tonight."

When no one was looking, Lavender blew Seamus a little kiss.

Shortly after that, people started making for bed. Dani and Roberto vanished first. Bobby showed Marie a small vial he'd been carrying somewhere, and her eyes gleamed as she went off with him. Sam and Rahne shared a chaste but sincere kiss, before heading for adjacent beds.

Peter turned to Kitty to kiss her goodnight, but she took him firmly by the hand and led him to a bed, drawing the curtains behind them.

"Kitty, are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Yes, Peter, I am!" she asserted. "It's time and past time. In case you hadn't noticed, I love you."

"I love you, too," he told her, "but Kitty, I don't have any--"

"We don't have to do everything just now, Peter, but we can make a start." She blushed. "Only turn your back while I undress. I'm a little shy. "

He turned, hearing her robe fall to the floor and the bed creak. "You can look now," Kitty invited. Peter looked at her lying in the bed, smiled, and began to take off his clothes.

Ron drew the curtains across the alcove, surprised to see that the curtains on the four-poster had already been drawn. He slipped through them to see Hermione lying on the bed, quite naked, smiling up at him.

"Whoa!" he said. "You're eager tonight!"

She stared at him with troubled eyes. "Ron, I almost lost you today. I'll never be able to thank Parvati enough. But it struck me how much time you and I have wasted - time we could have, and should have, spent together. Let's not waste the time we have. Come here, Ron, and make love to me!"

Alison was settling down for a lonely night, when she heard someone clearing his throat. She stuck her head out from her four-poster to see Seamus looking through the outer curtains. "Now would you be mindin' if I were after joining you in there, acushla?" he asked.

"_Mi casa, su casa._" she replied, moving across the bed and tossing back the sheets. As Seamus joined her, she asked, "Can we still be friends tomorrow?"

"Well, and I'm hoping so, for sure!"

"That's all I wanted to know," Alison replied, holding her arms out to him.

Ginny shoved Harry onto the bed, whipped off her robe and straddled him. "You had better be in the mood _tonight_, Harry Potter!"

"Oh, I am, I am!" he replied, voice muffled as he pulled off his tunic.

Ginny leaned over and kissed him passionately, then looked serious for a moment. "Harry, are you taking your potion?"

"Yes, of course. I wanted to get into the habit ahead of time. Why?" he asked.

"I was wondering whether we should--I mean, today was dangerous, and tomorrow, who knows? Harry, I don't want to die a virgin, and I don't want to lose you without ever having made love!"

"Merlin! Don't get morbid on me, Ginny." He cupped her face in his hands. "We made our plans, and we're going to stick to them. We _are_ going to come out of this alive, and we _are_ going to celebrate your birthday just as we planned to. Now come here, young lady!"

He pulled her to him, and they didn't talk any more, except in whispered endearments.

Molly Weasley had spent the day worrying, which meant she had cleaned the house from top to bottom, done the laundry, dried it, ironed it and put it all away neatly. She had tried to read; she had guzzled tea, taken two showers and a bath, and had cooked three meals she left virtually untouched. Molly had even experimented with the children's Muggle music device, oddly enough finding more comfort in Ron's loud and vibrant heavy rock music than Hermione's wistful love songs or Harry's more complex choices. (_Oasis? What sort of a name was that for a group of musicians?)_

It was late, but she couldn't sleep. Her clock gave no relief, though it told her that Arthur, Bill and the twins were safe for now. Molly sat on the sofa in the living room, having been driven to the extremes of a small tot of whisky-a treat she normally shared with Arthur on the rare occasions they had the house to themselves. Finally, she dozed.

She was jolted back to awareness by the sensation that she was not alone. Molly opened her eyes to a stranger sitting on the sofa opposite her. For some reason, she was not afraid; instead, she looked the newcomer over carefully. He was a Muggle- so much was obvious from his sober, blue suit. It was difficult to tell his age; he could be forty or sixty. He was slender, totally bald, with a strong but kindly face and penetrating dark eyes. He looked...familiar.

"Professor...?" she hazarded.

The man smiled and nodded. "You are correct, and most perceptive, Mrs. Weasley. I am Charles Xavier. I've been trying to reach you for some time."

Molly's most basic instinct kicked in, and she made to rise. "Let me get you a cup of tea."

The Professor held up a hand. "Please, do not try to move! You are, in fact, asleep, or dozing, at least. Any attempt to rise will break our rather fragile link."

"I'm dreaming?"

"Not exactly. But I'm not physically present in your house. Perhaps another time, I will be able to enjoy the famous Weasley hospitality. For now, talk will have to do. Are you aware of what a telepath is, Mrs. Weasley?"

"The children told me it was like Legilimency."

"That is fairly accurate. To explain the difference would be time-consuming and unnecessary at the moment. Suffice to say that I possess the ability to project my thoughts into the minds of others when they are in a receptive state. Until just now, you were too preoccupied for me to gain your attention. When you fell into a doze, I was able to reach you."

"Why? What do you want?"

"Merely to reassure you. I have been maintaining a telepathic surveillance of my students throughout the day. They have faced a good many challenges, but are currently gathered together, whole and well. Harry and Ron are with them."

"Ginny and Hermione, as well?"

"They and the other kidnapped young wizards are together and enjoying a rather convivial evening."

Molly felt a great wave of joy. Somehow, she knew she could trust this man. He was, after all, the Professor X of whom the children had spoken with such respectful affection. "You're certain they're safe for now?"

"Yes. Tomorrow will bring more challenges, but I have every confidence in their ability to succeed." Xavier smiled. "My main concern at this moment is for you. You should try to sleep. When the children emerge from the Labyrinth, they will all be in need of your unique skills."

"_My_ skills?" Molly demurred. "Why, bless you, Professor, I've no special skills!"

Xavier said, "The skill of making young people feel loved and wanted, no matter who they are, is one of the most precious talents in the world. But it takes strength to give out such feeling. If you wish, I can implant a suggestion in your mind which will allow you to sleep more easily."

Molly accepted this offer without hesitation. She had never cared for Sleeping Potions, and this at least would not taste dreadful. After making the Professor promise that he would visit The Burrow in person one day soon, she leaned back and closed her eyes. A few moments later, she opened them, truly awake this time, but feeling very relaxed. With a small smile, she rose and made her way upstairs to bed.

**Chapter 8: Assault on Salazar's Keep**

Fleur had risen early to check on her patient. The Muggle had awakened for long enough to drink a little warm milk before falling back into the sleep he so desperately needed. Professor McGonagall had come to the infirmary to inform Fleur that some people from the Ministry's Department of Muggle Affairs would be arriving in a few hours. They would transport the unfortunate man to a nearby Muggle hospital with the story that he was a lost hiker - not uncommon in this region in the summer. McGonagall would watch over him until then.

Fleur knew that today would be dangerous, but right now, that was the least of her worries. She hung back in the shadow of the entrance to the Great Hall, where a buffet breakfast had been laid, and watched Scott Summers. He and the other X-Men had donned the black uniforms they had been wearing when they first stepped from their aircraft yesterday. The uniforms were close-fitting to allow free movement, and her tall American looked superb in that garb!

_Mon Dieu!_ Already she was thinking of him as _her_ American! There was the nub of the matter. Fleur had begun this flirtation as part challenge to herself, part show of defiance to Bill Weasley and Tonks. But last night, images of Scott had refused to stay out of her dreams. Fleur wanted to hear him speak her name in that firm, quiet voice, listen to his low chuckle, feel his strong arms around her and uncover those hidden eyes. Could she continue in this playful, manipulative vein, or would her heart betray her into something more? Did she not in fact _want_ this to be something more? Scott kept glancing towards the door, and Fleur's heart leapt as she realised he was looking for her!

Our feelings can surprise us, can't they Mlle. Delacour? 

Fleur started; the quiet, rough voice behind her spoke in fluent French, but she had heard no one approach. She spun to confront the stocky figure of the one they called the Wolverine. Managing to recover her dignity, she replied in the same language.

"You speak French, Monsieur Logan?" 

I do, he grinned, Though I don't remember where or when I learned it! I also speak Japanese, as it happens.

But that's not important, now. You're surprised at your feelings for Scott? 

Fleur could only smile and look down. How her friends at Beauxbatons would laugh to see her like this!

Logan nodded, and touched her arm briefly but encouragingly

Be good to him, and he'll be good to you! 

Logan went on into the room. Fleur composed herself, then followed him. Scott saw her at once, and his face lit with a smile. Fleur suddenly wanted to run to him, but contented herself with walking a little faster to meet him and to take his outstretched hands in hers. She kissed both his cheeks lightly. He didn't try to kiss her, but squeezed her hands.

"Hi, Fleur! Sleep well?"

"_Mais oui, _Scott. And you, _mon vieux_?"

"Like a log. Good thing, too; today's gonna be a bear! Let's get some coffee," Scott said, taking her elbow and walking with her to the table.

Less than two hours later, the mixed force of wizards and Mutants was moving into position around the grim Keep. They had arrived by portkey at a staging area about a mile away, and had separated into teams, following the plan worked out the previous day.

Fleur and Scott set up what amounted to an aid-station in a copse perhaps two hundred yards from the tree line. It was on a small rise so that Scott could get an overview of the situation. On another hill, further back in the forest, Tonks, the Weasley twins, Banshee, Polaris and Storm were already in position. Lupin, Moody and Snape took positions just inside the trees opposite the side door, along with Beast and Nightcrawler. Shacklebolt's squad consisted of himself, Arthur and Bill Weasley, Harris, Simmonds, Knowles and Parker; Havok and Wolverine were with them.

The plan was simple. The Aurors had decided that Apparating directly into the fortress would probably trigger any number of magical defences, whereas a frontal assault might only set off defences aimed at Muggle attackers. At the main gate, Shacklebolt and his team would launch an attack designed to draw most of the defenders out. Once that was well under way, Tonks and the twins would arrive from the air to clear the battlements, land in the courtyard and open the main gate from inside. At the same time, Moody, Lupin and Snape would try to get into the Keep through the side door to come on the rear of the defenders and perhaps open the inner door if the first attempt failed.

The X-Men were simply to observe, though they could relay messages through their communicators. Scott intended to monitor the attack until the Keep was penetrated. After that, the X-Men would secure the perimeter and wait. Walls meant nothing to the Hulk, Scott knew, so he could break out anywhere. At that point, the wizards were to disengage from the Death Eaters if possible, to tackle the more dangerous opponent. Should the Hulk emerge, Shacklebolt had agreed to hand over tactical command to Cyclops, though Scott felt that to be a minor point - experience was no guide when dealing with a force of nature like the Hulk!

"Havok to Cyclops--They're moving out."

"Roger that." Cyclops turned to Fleur. "It's starting."

Shacklebolt's people came out of the woods fast and noisy in a wedge formation, the senior Auror at the apex. Before they were halfway across the open ground, there was a devastating response! There were multiple deafening _booms_ as more wizards - far more than the estimated twenty-unexpectedly Apparated onto the scene. At the same time, much larger figures--huge, clumsy, savage-looking brutes armed with clubs and stone-tipped hammers--shimmered into existence.

"_Merde!_" cried Fleur. "They 'ave trolls! 'Ow could they 'ave 'idden the beasts?"

"Hardly matters," grunted Cyclops. "They're holding their own down there, but for how long?"

Shacklebolt's party had made some headway on sheer momentum, leaving a trail of stunned and petrified wizards. But now their advance had ground to a halt, and they were trying to retreat under shielding spells. But numbers were against them, and they were being surrounded.

"Cyclops to Banshee," said Scott into his communicator. "Get Tonks and the boys airborne. See if they can take the pressure off Shacklebolt."

"Beast to Cyclops--Moody and Snape are trying a flanking attack. Lupin is keeping watch on the side door, just in case."

"Roger that."

The emergence of the two additional wizards out of the forest, however, only brought about the arrival of more Death Eaters and trolls. For a moment, Cyclops was relieved to see Tonks and the twins swoop overhead, then a large squadron of broom-mounted Death Eaters rose from the Keep's courtyard to intercept them.

"Wolverine to Cyclops -- This mission is turning into one big Charlie-fox. What do we do, boss?"

"Hold position for now. Be prepared to cover a retreat if necessary but do NOT engage unless attacked. I'm reassessing the position."

"Well, don't take too damned long, Cyke, or you'll reassess these guys into an early grave!"

Cyclops allowed himself a rare oath. Logan was right, but he didn't want to interfere unless... "_Fleur!_"

In her horrified fascination with the scene below, Fleur had stepped out from the cover of the copse. She must have been spotted from the Keep, because there was a _boom_, and two Death Eaters suddenly appeared in front of her.

One, a woman, raised her wand and said, "_Crucio!_" Fleur was seized with a flaming agony that stopped almost as soon as it began. The woman lay sprawled on the grass, and Fleur realised that Scott was now at her side.

The male Death Eater stared at his fallen partner, then at Cyclops. "What the bloody...?" he hissed, raising his wand. Fleur saw Scott lift his hand to his visor, and a beam of ruby light sprang from his eyes to strike the wizard full in the chest, hurling him back to smash into a tree and crumple unconscious to the ground.

The woman was getting to her feet. Fleur petrified her on the spot, then turned to Scott, embracing him and murmuring thanks into his chest.

Scott asked gently, "Are you OK?"

"_Oui, cheri._ I am well." It was not how she had dreamed it, but she was finally in his arms, and it felt wonderful.

Cyclops stroked her hair absently, his eyes scanning the battlefield. Shacklebolt's squad was surrounded by a ring of fallen foes, but more kept coming. It looked as if Simmonds was down and the others must follow soon. Snape and Moody had taken terrible toll of their attackers, but were being forced back, foot by foot. In the air, Tonks and the twins had thinned down their opponents a little, but were increasingly having to concentrate on dodging rather than striking. Enough was enough - those were friends down there, however new, and Scott Summers had already lost his greatest friend and love - he was losing no more!

"Cyclops to X-Men--Cancel all previous orders. Render assistance where necessary and engage with maximum force!"

"All right!" replied Havok

"Copy and thank you," came from Beast.

"Bring it on!" snarled Wolverine.

"In the air and coming in hot!" said Banshee.

Fleur was gazing up at him with surprised admiration in her eyes. "Scott, I thought you were only to watch...?"

He shook his head. "It's gone too far, Fleur. Are you up for this?"

"Eef you are by my side, Scott, I can do anything!"

"Good! But for now, you call me _Cyclops_. Let's go!" He took her hand in his, and they dashed down the hill into the fight.

The wizards, of course, had no communicators. Shacklebolt had drawn his squad into a circle around the stunned Simmonds, but they'd had no time to revive him. At any one time, half were shielding and the other half attacking, but sooner or later either a Troll's club or a wizard's curse would break through. Cyclops had been right, their advance intelligence had been severely lacking. There were clearly far more Death Eaters than anyone had supposed, and the Keep itself seemed to have its own defences.

What were they to do? To carry on the attack would be suicidal, but now their retreat was cut off. Shacklebolt guessed that the trolls would not cross the tree line. If they could get there, it would be guerrilla warfare with the Death Eaters. But to get there they must get past the trolls.

Then there was a blaze of white light, and a troll was flung aside like a toy! Arthur Weasley gave a yell of delight. "Kingsley, look!"

From the edge of the forest, the tall figure of Havok advanced steadily. His raised hands emitted bolts of white power that struck into the trolls and wizards with devastating force. Moments later, another tall man joined him: It was Cyclops, who sent beams of red energy from his eyes, smashing away more enemies. Between the two brothers came the small shape of Fleur Delacour, hurling curses and hexes with ferocious intensity. The crowd of enemies around Shacklebolt turned their attention to this new threat.

Bill stooped to Simmonds. "_Ennervate!_" he said, helping the Auror to his feet.

"Come on!" yelled Shacklebolt. "We've got to join up with those three before they're overrun!"

His people surged forward with a volley of spells, and the two forces were united.

"Glad you could join us!" Shacklebolt called to Cyclops.

"No problem. When's lunch?"

"Damn! Thought _you_ were handling the caterers."

"Oh well. They might have something inside."

"In that case, let's get that gate down!"

Snape and Moody were old campaigners. Snape knew every dirty trick in the book, and Moody, it was rumoured, had _written_ the book! They had done far more damage than any two wizards had a right to, but the numbers arrayed against them were simply too large, and now three trolls were closing in.

"Well, Moody, fancy making a dash for the trees?"

"At my age? I am quite beyond 'dashing' anywhere, Severus! We should have brought more people, I--Now what in Merlin's name is that lad doing?"

Snape smirked. "I do believe we are in for some entertainment, Moody."

Wolverine had come out of the forest and made directly for his friend's position. He approached the trolls from behind and yelled, "Hey! Big'n'ugly! Wanna pick on someone your own size?"

The three trolls turned. Each of them was bigger than Colossus and just as strong. Wolverine looked ridiculously small beside them. As one, the creatures roared and attacked him.

The trolls didn't stand a chance. The feral mutant was faster, more agile and more savage than anything they had met before. Swing as they might, neither club nor fist could connect with the whirling dervish in their midst. Wolverine's adamantium claws sliced troll-hide as if it were paper. It was messy, it was vicious, and it was over in seconds. The three trolls were literally cut to ribbons, falling in gouts of black blood to lie dead on the grass.

Wolverine loped up to Snape and Moody. "You guys gonna stand there catchin' bugs in your mouths, or do we go kick some more butt?"

"I thought you Yanks were supposed to wait for this Hulk?" barked Moody.

"Things change, Mr. Moody." Wolverine shrugged. "Cyclops saw you were outnumbered, so he committed the X-Men. You want we should butt out?"

"By no means," said Snape. "I have been avidly anticipating a joint venture with you, Logan, ever since our encounter with those larcenous individuals in New York last month."

"New York?" inquired Moody.

"A place called, I believe, 'Hell's Kitchen', outside an excellent hostelry named 'Chuck's Bar & Grill'," Snape explained.

"I know it," said Moody. "Good food and decent whiskey."

"But the clientele are sadly lacking in refinement," finished Snape, wrinkling his nose.

Wolverine grinned. "Well, we sure taught 'em some manners!"

As they talked, the three had been steadily advancing, driving a squad of Death Eaters in front of them. Unlike Colossus, Wolverine was not invulnerable to spells, so Snape and Moody were volleying curses at the opposition, allowing Logan to take advantage of the disruption and charge in with fists and feet. Moody noted with approval that the mutant restrained himself from using his claws on human foes. Trolls, however, received no such mercy, and lacked the wit to learn from their fellows' fate. Wolverine systematically slaughtered six of the creatures.

About a dozen of the Death Eaters had retreated to the guardhouse. With a sudden dash, Snape prevented them from closing the door behind them, and he and his two allies slipped inside.

By this time, Shacklebolt, Cyclops and the assault force had come close enough to see what happened. The windows of the guard house showed flashes of odd-coloured light and darting figures, while from inside came the sound of shouts, screams and a good deal of swearing. Clearly, there had been even more Death Eaters inside the building.

Havok shook his head. "There's nothing we can do for them!"

"_Ah, oui,_" murmured Fleur sadly. " We cannot 'elp Professor Snape, Monsieur Moody or ze Wolverine. Zey may be lost."

"Huh?" Havok gave her a puzzled glance, "It's not _them_ I'm worried about!"

As Fleur stared at him, the door of the guardhouse suddenly flew off its hinges and the figure of a wizard sailed gracefully out of it to land at her feet. The man gazed up at her with glazed eyes, murmured. "I surrender," and passed out cold.

Fleur looked up as three figures came out through the splintered doorway. Moody stretched. "Kids!" he snorted. Snape brushed ash off the shoulder of his robe. "Incompetents!" he remarked acidly. Wolverine cracked his knuckles, muttering "Amateurs."

"Get over here, you three!" roared Shacklebolt. "They're rallying, and we have to reach that outer gate!"

The air battle had been hair-raising, to say the least. Tonks and the Weasley twins had been badly outnumbered, but had managed to hold their own so far, downing about a third of their opponents. The boys, in particular, had used all the skills acquired in seven years of school Quidditch, and a few manoeuvres that would have earned them double detention if used in a match!

But numbers had begun to tell, and they were spending more time dodging than fighting now. Then George shouted, "Look out, Tonks!" She had to crane her neck to see three Death Eaters bearing down on her from out of the sun. For a moment, she thought they had her, then she heard a sound that went through her head like a needle.

Tonks shook her head to clear it, then saw her attackers clutching their own heads in agony as their brooms spun away, out of control. A figure clad in black, flying without a broom, was matching pace with her.

Banshee drew in close enough to call to the young Auror. "Sorry about that, darlin'! I had to hit 'em fast, and you caught the edge of my scream. Now, stay tight and watch my six."

"Watch your _what_?"

"Me backside, girl!"

"Oh. Well, you're a little old for me, but..." Tonks quipped as she swooped after the veteran X-Man.

The Death Eaters were flying line abreast, and Banshee and Tonks hit the left flank hard with scream and wand. The Weasley twins were nothing if not quick on the uptake, turning fast to hit the right flank with typical reckless courage. Fred knocked a Death Eater off his broom with a Stun spell, then transfigured the broom into a Bludger. This, however, was the Bludger from Hell, conceived from the mind of an experienced Beater. It was large, made of black iron, covered with wicked spikes, and moved in a blur, cutting cloverleaves through the unfortunate Death Eaters.

George was caught up in a frantic duel with a wiry, ferret-faced wizard who had clearly been a Quidditch player in his youth. It was touch and go for a while, as they circled and darted round each other. Then George managed to slice his opponent's broom neatly in two. But even as the man fell, he hurled a brief Cruciatus curse. The surge of pain was enough to send George tumbling from his broom, frantically trying to summon enough concentration to slow his fall. Before he could do so, however, he felt his fall arrested. Looking round, he saw the green-haired girl hovering a few feet away, a hand stretched out to him. A blue aura surrounded them both. "How the bloody...?"

"Magnetism," explained Polaris. "There's change in your pockets, and your belt-buckle is metal." She gave a rueful smile. "Magneto could do it with the iron in your blood, but I'm not that good! You better find a spell or something to help, before you lose your pants."

George nodded and called, "_Accio_ _broom!_" Among the first things the Weasley twins had done with their new-found wealth was to indulge themselves in a pair of Firebolts, so his mount arrived post-haste and he swung himself gratefully back onto it. "Let's go!" he yelled.

When they rejoined Fred, Polaris promptly demonstrated how formidable her powers could be in the right circumstances. She took control of Fred's Bludger, substituting its random movements for precise, viciously effective attacks. The twins circled nearby, concentrating on defending their Mutant ally from Death Eater attacks.

Both wings of the Death Eater line had been shattered by the reinforced attackers, but those in the centre had fallen back. Now they came on again in an arrowhead formation, several fliers deep. The advantage in numbers was still overwhelming, and this formation would be more difficult to break.

"Storm to Polaris and Banshee--Pull back behind me. It's time to get serious with this scum!"

The two X-Men alerted their wizard partners, and all five streaked back to where Storm hovered a few yards away. Fred swallowed hard as he approached her. Storm hung in the air, poised and graceful, an expression of calm concentration on her lovely face. _Jupiter, she's beautiful!_ he thought. Then he saw her chocolate-brown eyes turn silver. _What in Merlin's name...?_

They passed her to confront the enemy. The sky suddenly darkened; a cold wind blew up from nowhere. The clouds churned and, possibly for the first time in history, the funnel of a tornado touched down on Scottish soil.

The phenomenon caught the Death Eaters completely by surprise. They were used to weather magic, of course, but such summonings took time and complex enchantments. This creature, whatever she might be, had called forth a devastating force of nature with a simple act of will!

Storm sent the whirlwind forward into her enemies. The best fliers were helpless in the face of such power. The Death Eaters were scattered, many of them flung from their brooms to the ground, the rest hurled away in a dozen directions. Most of those who remained mounted elected to flee as soon as they regained control. The few who hung on after Storm had quieted the tornado were no match for the mixed force of airborne wizards and Mutants.

"I'll stay aloft and keep a lookout," Storm told the others. "You get down into that courtyard and get those doors open!"

Remus Lupin had been dividing his attention between the side door and the ongoing battle. When the signal came for the X-Men to join the fight, he had held Beast and Nightcrawler back. "Listen!" he said, "We'll wait here a few moments, then once your friends are fully into the fight, I'll make for the door openly. With any luck, whoever's on the other side of it will come out at me. The three of us ought to be able to get in, if there aren't too many of them."

Remus was proved right. He dashed out of the tree towards the small door, and it opened immediately for half-a-dozen wizards to charge out. Remus dropped two of them instantly, just as the Beast landed among the others. The blue-furred Mutant was even more agile than Wolverine; by the time a spell had been launched at him, he wasn't there! He was also far stronger than a normal human, decking three wizards in as many seconds. Remus petrified the last, only to see that two more stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the entrance.

For a moment, Remus and Beast paused. Then they heard a _bamf! _from the trees behind them, and Nightcrawler suddenly appeared behind the two guards and knocked their heads smartly together. Both men slumped to the ground while Nightcrawler grinned at his friends and said, "Are you guys coming, or what?"

"It certainly behooves us to progress with a degree of alacrity," remarked the Beast, "but I would strongly urge caution. I have no doubt there will be more opposition inside."

"We'll find out," said Remus. "What's in there, Kurt?"

"It seems to be the head of a stairway - goes quite a way down," said Nightcrawler.

At the bottom of the stairs, a stone passage led off in the direction of the Keep.

"I think our luck just changed!" exulted Remus. "The others are still tied up outside, but if we can get into the Keep _itself_! Come on!"

By this time, the main body of attackers were within yards of the great gate. The mixed force had quickly adopted effective tactics: The mutants had no defence against spells, so tended to stay inside the crowd of wizards, who shared the tasks of shielding and attacking. The Aurors worked together, as they had been trained to, though Moody showed a marked preference for working with Snape. Arthur and Bill Weasley also stuck close together, communicating wordlessly as only members of a close family can. Fleur Delacour was also proving to be far more formidable than her rather poor showing in the Tri-Wizard tournament had promised. Bill noted with some amusement, though, that Fleur never moved more than a few feet from Cyclops.

Shacklebolt's main concern was that, though their valiant intervention had come close to turning the fight, once the element of surprise was gone, the X-Men could be of little help. He soon discovered his mistake. Whenever a large group of Death Eaters approached in tight formation, a single energy-bolt from Havok, or a blast of Cyclops' optic beams, was sufficient to disable most of them and scatter the rest. Trolls, notoriously difficult to put down with spells, also fell easy victim to the Summers brothers' powers. The other revelation was Wolverine. If any Death Eater or troll were lucky enough to get within a few feet of the attackers, his luck ended there! Wolverine would dart out from the squad and attack with all the relentless savagery and courage of his animal namesake.

After roughly an hour of hard fighting, Parker stunned the last of the enemy wizards, just as Wolverine slashed open the throat of the final troll. There was a pause while the victors took stock, checking each other for unnoticed injuries, or simply shaking hands and gripping shoulders. Then Shacklebolt said, "Right! So much for openers. _Now_ things get dangerous."

They faced the looming obstacle of the outer gate. Both Havok and Cyclops attacked it directly with their powers, but their energy dissipated before it touched the ancient wood. Spells suffered the same fate.

Bill Weasley stared hard at the portal, then called to Shacklebolt. "The gate's protected by a curse, no doubt a very ancient one. I think I can break it, but I need to be on the other side. Hold on!"

He stepped forward, preparing to Apparate beyond the gate. His father leapt to his side, shouting "_Protego!_" as a fireball shot down from a turret beside the gate. The two Weasleys retreated back to the main group. Now the attackers saw that the small turrets that projected from the walls were manned.

"Damn!" Shacklebolt shook his head. "They're snug in there. We can keep their heads down, but we can't winkle 'em out."

Scott scowled. "Those turrets must have access to the gate controls. If we could get into one of them..."

"That's old stone, pitted and weathered," remarked Bill. "I've climbed walls like that in Egypt. I could get up one of them, if you keep me covered."

"I could get up the other, no sweat," said Wolverine. "Whaddya say, Cyke? Do we give it a shot?"

"Do we have a choice?" asked Cyclops. "Mr. Shacklebolt?"

The senior Auror stared ruefully at the towers. "I must be getting old. Ten years ago, I'd have thought of that myself. Right! Go ahead, you two. We'll cover you."

Wolverine eyed Bill. "I go left; you go right. Last one to the top buys the beer."

"You're on!" agreed Bill.

Under cover of a barrage of spells and mutant energies, the two men darted forward. Wolverine thrust his unbreakable claws into the stone to haul himself up, thinking, _Kurt would scamper up here like a monkey. How come there's never a Spider-Man around when you need one?_

Bill, with a Sticking charm on his hands and feet, was swarming up the stone with remarkable speed. _The kid's good_, Logan allowed. _I figured he would be._

Somebody else would have to buy the beer, it seemed, as both men arrived at the top simultaneously. The wizards in the turrets both leaned over at the same time. One bent straight into Wolverine's rising fist and slumped back without a sound. Bill was even more direct, grasping his opponent by the throat and hauling him out of the turret to plummet to the ground below.

The turrets let onto the gallery that overlooked the outer ward between the gate and the inner curtain wall. There were half a dozen wizards there, waiting in case the attackers breached the gate. Bill and Wolverine got to work, and a few minutes later the defenders were asleep on the job!

The two men looked each other over. "This is nothing for you, is it?" said Bill. "I mean, Ron told me about you, but I had no idea really."

Wolverine shrugged. "I been doin' this a long time, kid, and I got advantages. I like the way you operate, though, and your Pop. I can see where Hunter gets it from."

Bill took the opportunity to ask, "What _did _you do to Ron? He went over to America barely able to walk without falling over his own feet, and came back hard as nails and moving like a cat!"

"He's a good student; you just have to _motivate_ him!" Wolverine smiled reminiscently. Ron had been one of his favourite students--once he'd had his butt kicked a couple dozen times.

As they talked, they searched for a way down. At last they discovered in the thickness of the walls a narrow stairway that led to a door beside the gate. Behind the door, a room contained an ancient windlass clearly intended to operate the gate.

They went out to examine the gate. The inside of it was carved with what Wolverine had to assume were spells of some kind. He couldn't read the writing, which was some kind of loopy, cursive script.

Bill rubbed his chin with his hand. "Merlin! This _is_ old! Wolverine, you'd better stand back and let me concentrate." Bill placed himself squarely in front of the gate, and seemed to go into some kind of trance. Wolverine left him to it, keeping a lookout for enemies. There seemed to be a good deal of racket coming from the other side of the inner door. Maybe the airborne crew had arrived?

"Wolverine to Banshee--Sitrep?"

"Banshee here. We're securing the courtyard. Stand by."

"Copy that."

Bill had begun to chant. Wolverine didn't recognise the language, which had a lilting, Irishy sound but seemed to have too many vowels. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as his most basic instincts responded to the chanting with...fear!

The writing on the gate began to glow--first green, then yellow, then red. Bill's voice rose, taking on a tone of arrogant command. Particles of red light began to detach themselves from the writing and float toward the young wizard, vanishing before they reached him. The flow increased, until whole words streamed off the gate until the writing was gone. Bill swayed for a moment, then suddenly crumpled to the ground.

Wolverine darted forward. He carried Bill into the windlass room and set him down. Bill's pulse and breathing were regular; he'd live. Wolverine considered winding up the gate, but decided it would take too long.

"Wolverine to Cyclops--The curse is gone, you should be able to demolish the gate now."

"Copy."

It took Cyclops and Havok only seconds to reduce the fore gate to splinters. The attacking force poured through. Wolverine called Fleur to tend Bill, who was beginning to stir, then informed Cyclops and Shacklebolt that Banshee and the others were busy in the courtyard.

Fleur and a somewhat shaky Bill joined them. "You OK?" Wolverine asked Bill.

"I've been better," Bill admitted. "Some of those counter spells have to be cast from a trance state, and it takes it out of you a bit."

" 'E ees well," Fleur said flatly. "I 'ave given to 'im a potion for the strength. 'E weel be able to continue." She moved next to Cyclops, who casually dropped an arm around her shoulders. Fleur nestled in close, flashing Bill a small, triumphant smile.

"Right!" said Shacklebolt. "We've had our break. Let's press on to the inner gate."

He turned to appraise it, just as it gave an alarming creak. As they watched, fat blue sparks began to crawl over its black iron hinges and other metal fittings.

Havok grinned and pointed. "Not a problem! Looks like that girl of mine is on the job!"

Banshee, Polaris, Tonks and the twins swooped like hawks onto the inner ward. Fred and George swept the battlements of the curtain wall, sending the few watchers there plunging into the courtyard. Banshee and Tonks tackled the larger contingent in the courtyard itself. Stunned and demoralised by Banshee's ultrasonic scream, they were easy prey for the young Auror, especially when the twins joined her. It took only moments to secure the area.

Polaris had waited out the short but fierce skirmish by examining the next gate. Now she settled to the ground in front of it, and called Tonks over. "There's writing on the gate. Is it magically protected somehow?"

Tonks cast a fireball that faded out before touching the gate. "The short answer's _yes_."

Polaris frowned. "The writing's all on the wood, not the metal. Why?"

Tonks shoved her hair back with her hands. "You're asking the wrong person; I almost failed History of Magic. Let's see...if Salazar Slytherin built this place, it must be nigh on a thousand years old. Back then, wizards were still having problems with iron. They could charm and transfigure gold, lead, bronze and all that, but iron and steel were very resistant. Godric Gryffindor's greatest achievement, they say, was to make his sword out of _steel_. Things are different now, though in the middle part of this century, older wizards had a hard time with plastics." Tonks chuckled, remembering the frustration of an elderly friend of her parents who had tried to animate a doll for her when she was little--a doll bought by her father in a Muggle shop.

She pulled her thoughts back to the present. "Not that it matters. If you attack the gate, you attack both wood and metal, so the curse will still hold."

Polaris tapped at her chin with a finger. "Tonks, what _is_ your first name, anyway?"

"Nymphadora," muttered the young witch.

"Can I call you that?"

"Better if you don't. When blokes hear that name, they imagine me romping through the woods wearing nothing but daisies."

"A-hah!" Polaris snorted. "Tonks, my power won't affect wood, but the hinges are metal. D'you see where I'm going with this?"

Tonks nodded, suddenly eager. "Do you reckon you can...?"

"It's worth a shot. Stand clear!"

Polaris pretended to spit on her hands, then approached the gate, raising them in front of her. The blue aura George had noticed before surrounded her again, and her long green hair began to move as if it were alive. As the others watched, blue sparks began to appear on the iron hinges and bindings of the gate. The gate creaked, and seemed to shift slightly. Polaris tensed, frowning in concentration. The blue glow intensified and spread. Tonks felt an odd sensation, as if ants were crawling over her skin.

Then there was a groan of protesting stone, and dust began to sift down from where the great hinges were set into it. Tonks stared at Polaris in wonder. She and Bill had had some talk with Lorna and Alex the evening before, and apart from Lorna's green hair, they had seemed a perfectly ordinary, pleasant young Muggle couple. They'd been part overawed, part unnerved by the evidences of everyday magic that Tonks barely noticed any more. But now, the young woman who'd been nervous about Hogwarts' moving portraits was exerting quite naturally a level of power many wizards could only dream of.

The curse on the door remained quiescent; no direct threat was being levelled at the substance it had been laid on. But, slowly at first, then more quickly, the ancient stone around the hinge-posts crumbled as the iron answered the irresistible call of Polaris' magnetic powers. With a final, cracking, crumbling sound, the gate came away from the wall and hung for a moment in mid-air. Polaris lowered it to the ground, then relaxed with a sigh.

Seconds later, the attacking party surged through, and she was in Havok's arms.

"That's my girl!" he said proudly, kissing her soundly.

"Excuse me, mister," she said, a little breathlessly, "but I'm nobody's _girl_! What am I, twelve?"

"Oh...er...I mean...you know!"

She gave a peal of laughter. "I know what you mean, but you just look so cute standing there with your foot in your mouth. Now I'll have another of those kisses by way of apology."

Bill had dashed up to Nymphadora, but had said nothing. Speech at that moment was unnecessary, and indeed impossible!

Cyclops and Shacklebolt were now considering the silent, looming Keep. "Bloody Hell, another gate," Shacklebolt spat out in disgust.

Cyclops was looking at the fortifications around and above the third barrier. The battlements were unmanned, the windows closed. Salazar's Keep brooded silently above them. "I don't like it," breathed Scott. "It's too quiet."

Remus, Beast and Nightcrawler were making their way down a corridor, hopefully in the general direction of the main hall. So far, they had encountered no resistance, but they proceeded cautiously. The corridor ended in a narrow stairway that opened out into what Beast assumed was the minstrel's gallery above the Great Hall. The hall itself was crowded with robed wizards, perhaps fifty or sixty of them, all looking at a slender, blonde woman who stood on a dais before a great chair.

"Narcissa Malfoy!" hissed Remus.

"You know her?" queried the Beast.

"Oh, yes," Remus grimaced sourly. "We were at Hogwarts together. Narcissa had a reputation for being...precocious...in certain ways. I think she and her sister Bellatrix were in a race to see who could lose their virginity first. It was over by the time they were both fourteen, and I never found out who won!

"After that, Bellatrix went into torturing small animals: flies, mice, First Years and so on. Narcissa made plotting her hobby; she loved cooking up all kinds of vicious mischief. Her parents married her off to Lucius Malfoy as soon as she finished school. He's in Azkaban now, but the Aurors had nothing on Narcissa. I wish I could say I was surprised to see her here."

"OK, later you're going to have to repeat all of that," said Beast, "but for the moment, I recommend a little judicious eavesdropping."

Narcissa had begun to speak in strident tones. "Brothers and sisters! Even now, the Order of the Phoenix, and their monstrous allies are at our gates. They threaten this, the very Keep of Salazar Slytherin, spiritual father of our Brotherhood.

"Our lesser brethren, fools and cowards all, have fled or fallen before them. Now, you, the Dark Lord's elite, are our last defence! Soon, those traitors to our pure Wizarding blood, along with their so-called Mutants-Muggles twisted with dark enchantments-will approach the door to this Keep. And that door will open to them!

"They will come through, here, to this very Hall, and you will be waiting. Here, under the shadow of the seat of Salazar himself, you will destroy them! Show them no mercy, for they will show you none.

"I must go now, to return to our Dark Lord's side. Be assured, his thoughts are with you, and his hand is over you. Fight well, and bravely, and great rewards will be yours."

Narcissa turned regally and left the hall. Once out of sight of the others, she shook with cruel, silent laughter. The brutish scum in the hall were doomed! She had watched the fight outside the Keep, seen the skill of the Aurors and the terrifying powers of their un-Muggle allies. Even if the Death Eaters won, by force of numbers perhaps, many would be killed. Fewer adherents loyal to Voldemort would leave him more open to manipulation by the Knights of Walpurgis. Narcissa even dared to hope that the Order's forces might seize or kill the mad Half-blood himself.

Just now, Narcissa had other plans. Her scrying glass could not show her all that went on in the Labyrinth, but she knew Potter still lived. He could emerge at any time, and the only exit was into this very Keep. Narcissa would be waiting for him, all concern, ready to whisk him away to the 'safety' of Malfoy Manor. Once there, it would be very strange if she could not make the handsome youth hers.

What Narcissa did not know was that three extra pairs of eyes had observed her exit, and that her ambush plan was no longer a secret. Remus turned to the two X-Men. "We have to warn the others!" he whispered.

Beast nodded and held up a hand, speaking quietly into his communicator. "Beast to Cyclops--Where are you?"

"Beast?" Scott's voice responded. "We're in the courtyard. The area's secure for now. What's your situation?"

"Lupin, Nightcrawler and I have penetrated the inner Keep. We're overlooking the Great Hall. I count maybe sixty hostiles waiting in ambush. Do not, repeat _do not_, attempt to enter by the Keep's main door."

"Copy that. Can you find us another way in?"

"We can try. We'll maintain radio silence until we do. Beast out."

Remus motioned his friends out into the corridor. "This place probably has a dozen hidden entrances and exits. If I remember my lessons, Slytherin wasn't only a sneaky bastard, but a paranoid one as well!"

Their search was, of necessity, a random one, since they didn't really know what they were looking for. They were forced to tap on walls and to look for suspicious panels.

"Oh, for a tricorder!" moaned Beast.

"If you had one, you wouldn't need one," pointed out Nightcrawler. "We could just beam straight in!"

"And we'd have four blokes in red shirts to get killed for us," added Remus. Both Mutants stared at him.

"How?" wondered Beast.

Remus grinned. "Nanna-my grandmother--was a Muggle. She had a telly. I used to watch _Star Trek_ when I was a kid."

"OK!" Beast grinned. "Favorite episode?"

"I always liked 'The Trouble With Tribbles'; it made me howl!"

"Good choice. 'City on the Edge of Forever' was better, though."

"Stow it, you two!" urged Nightcrawler. "You can geek it up later. Right now, we've got a job to do."

It was at that moment that a panel slid open in the corridor wall, and three Death Eaters stepped out of it. The three wizards immediately cast Stun spells. Two of them struck Beast, who collapsed without a sound. Nightcrawler leapt to one side, ran _along_ the wall and kicked one man in the head but was caught by a Cruciatus curse. Before the third Death Eater could strike at Remus, the wizard Disapparated with a bang, only to reappear behind his enemies and petrify them both. He applied binding charms to the fallen as an extra precaution.

Remus bent over Nightcrawler. "Kurt, Are you all right?"

The X-Man was already getting to his feet, shaking his head and swearing in German. He shuddered, finally forcing out, "_Mein Gott!_ What was that?"

"It's called a Cruciatus curse. One of the Unforgivables, as we call them. These Death Eaters are very fond of it. That bastard could have kept you in pain for hours, if he felt like it."

"Then I owe you my thanks, _mein freund_. I shall not forget."

"No need to make a fuss, Kurt, I--"

Remus' words broke off when he heard Beast stir and groan. "What? He took two Stun spells. He should be out for hours."

Nightcrawler explained, as the two of them went over to their friend. "Hank's a feral mutant, like Wolverine and me. We heal fast. Hank's faster-healing than I am, and Logan's even faster. Those shots would have barely slowed him down."

By this time, Beast was sitting up and looking around. "Ugh! An object lesson in the value of paying attention, I think! What happened?"

"We were jumped," Nightcrawler informed him. "Fortunately, or unfortunately, you got in the way of most of the shots. I keep saying you could do to lose some weight."

"The perils of a sedentary lifestyle; someday I must acquire one. I take it these are our would-be captors?"

"_Aber ja. _Remus here stole one of my moves to take them out!"

"Imitation _is_ the sincerest form of flattery," Remus felt obliged to point out.

"Quite so," added Beast, rising to his feet. "If the laws about plagiarism applied to combat tactics, Julius Caesar and Miyamoto Musashi would be the richest dead men on the planet!"

"The good news," Remus said, "is that the Death Eaters left this secret panel open. Should we explore further?"

"One way's as good as another," replied Beast. "Lead on, MacDuff!"

The passage had clearly been built within the thickness of the walls. The men followed it in the direction of the main entrance, as indicated by the compasses both X-Men carried. A fairly short walk brought them to a side passage that held a doorway.

"Any bets this door is hidden from the other side?" asked Nightcrawler. "Who wants to be first?"

"I think we'll let you," said Remus, "since you're the gambler."

"Where's your spirit of adventure?" Nightcrawler pushed on the door. "Here goes nothing."

_The troops are getting restless_, thought Shacklebolt. The near presence of the looming, silent, Keep was not conducive to happy thoughts at the best of times. Cyclops' news that an ambush awaited inside had not helped matters, though it had doubtless saved lives. _We must find a way to communicate like that,_ Shacklebolt decided. _Magic mirrors are a bit clumsy. I'll have to have a word with the Research Wizards_.

Shacklebolt looked around. People were standing and talking in a desultory fashion. The mutant couple, Alex and Lorna-_Havok and Polaris, _he reminded himself-stood close together, as did Tonks and young Weasley, but even snogging had lost its appeal under the tension of the moment.

Fleur reached out and took Scott's hand. "Scott? I 'ave something to say to you. Last night, our evening together, was for me ze most special. Today, also, though I 'ave been afraid as never before, it 'as been wonderful to be beside you. What may 'appen soon, I cannot tell, but it 'as been good to be with you, and I 'ope we will 'ave soon more time to come to know each other, yes?"

Scott looked down at her and realised that long-dormant feelings were awakening in him. He touched her cheek, saying, "Fleur, you've been amazing! I mean I do this kind of thing for a living, so to speak, but you? You're not an Auror; you're just a volunteer. You had no way of knowing what was gonna happen, yet you came along anyway. Nobody would have blamed you for staying back in the woods when things looked bad, but you stuck with us--with me--fighting like a tiger.

"You're brave and bright and...and what we call drop-dead gorgeous. So, yes, when this is over, I _do _want to spend more time with you. That I promise!"

She gave him a radiant smile, and was about to speak again, when a shout from Parker distracted everyone. "Oi! There's a door opening here."

Scott grabbed Fleur's hand and the two of them and Shacklebolt sprinted over at once. A few yards away from the main entrance, a concealed door swung open and a familiar blue-skinned face grinned at them.

"Welcome to Salazar's Keep. My name's Kurt, and I'll be your tour guide for today!"

**Chapter 9: A Friend Restored**

Alison woke with a sense of deep contentment. She lay nestled against Seamus, his arms comfortingly round her, and for now at least, she didn't want to be anywhere else!

_Funny how things turn out,_ she mused. Yesterday, she had been a novice X-Man on her first real mission. Dazzler had been trained to expect all kinds of things: vast underground bases, urban battlegrounds, jungles, oil rigs-all filled with veteran mercenaries, outlaw Mutants or hostile aliens. What she had gotten had been a charming cottage, a plump, motherly hostess and a calorie-laden but delicious breakfast! Once into the Labyrinth itself, she had been mysteriously separated from her team-mates, only to fall literally into partnership with a young wizard.

Alison had been mentally preparing herself for danger, combat, some kind of complex challenge to her skills, powers or intellect. What she had not been prepared for was the almost electric shock that ran through her body when she first met Seamus Finnigan's eyes. Dazzler was a native New Yorker and didn't for a moment believe in all that "love at first sight" crap-_lust_ at first sight, maybe, but _love_? That was for Valentine's cards!

None of which explained how it was that her heart turned over at the sound of the young Irish wizard's soft brogue. But there it was, and by the time they had threaded that lethal obstacle course together, Alison had been hopelessly, but _hopelessly, _in love with Seamus! Of course, she was sure he didn't feel the same way, so she resigned herself to being the best friend to him she possibly could.

But, after the day they had had, all that tension followed by the relaxation of a long bath and a good meal, she had wanted to sit with Seamus and talk with him. So they did that until Seamus got up and cast those spells on all the curtains, and suddenly everyone was going to bed, alone or in company. Ali had wanted company, very specific company, but didn't want to risk a friendship for a night of what she thought could only be casual sex. But she'd been unable to stop herself sending one look to Seamus, just before she entered the bed alcove. She had not known whether to be thrilled or saddened when he had answered her mute appeal, but she had invited him into her bed, anyway. She needed him there.

But Seamus had not, apparently, come for sex. The young couple had held each other close and talked. They had found themselves exchanging all kinds of little confidences, becoming increasingly intimate. Quite suddenly, Ali had heard Seamus say simply, "You do realise I love you, don't you Ali? I have since the first moment I saw you."

For the longest moment, she had been unable to reply, then, through joyful tears, she had told him that she felt the same way. After that, there had been swift undressing, followed by many soft caresses and finally a tender merging of their bodies as well as their hearts.

Now, as she felt him wake, she reached up a little and softly kissed his neck. "Hi, honey. Sleep well?"

"That I did, love." He kissed her hair.

Ali had to ask; she needed to hear him say it. "Seamus, last night you said..."

"That I love you? I did, and I do, Ali. Nothing's going to change that, acushla, I promise you."

"Good, because I love you, too. Do we have to get up, yet?"

"Not till the bell rings. Why?"

"Well, when you were kissing me last night, I think you missed a couple spots!"

Some time after that, the first bell rang, and people began stirring. Rogue called Harry, Ron and Hermione over to her, and handed them each what looked like a small capsule. "Ron, your Mom found these in your rooms, and shrank them down for us. She said you'd be able to reverse the spell."

When they did so, the three found that the "capsules" had been the duffle bags containing their uniforms.

"Now why did you bring these?" asked Harry.

Rogue fixed him with a stern look. "Hawk, you're an X-Man operating in the field. I realise you needed to start undercover, but this is now an official mission, and I expect to see you, Charm and Hunter in uniform. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Harry whipped off a somewhat sarcastic salute, which Rogue returned with a grin and a single digit.

Ron chuckled, but Hermione, typically, took a different tack. "Actually, that was a good idea. These outfits are much more practical for this kind of thing."

"You're right, of course," agreed Ron, "though you wouldn't be wearing a thong today, by any chance, would you, love?"

"_Ron!_" Hermione went scarlet. "You know perfectly well I'm not!"

"Thong?" queried Rogue.

"You had to be there," Ron told her.

"Honestly!" huffed Hermione. "What a thing to say in front of people!" she flounced off towards the bathroom, but she couldn't stop herself grinning. Ron had always been able to penetrate her armour, but Hermione was discovering that she really didn't mind all that much - as long as it was Ron.

People bathed and dressed quickly. Despite his response to Marie's order, Harry felt a good deal more ready to face trouble once he had drawn on the familiar, black leather. The last time he had worn it had been to model it for Ginny, and he was surprised to find that he'd grown a little since then. There was some leeway in the fit, though. Harry suspected that the outfit was not so much leather as it was what Beast called _adaptive_ _polymer_, designed to deal with the demands placed on it by a wearer with unusual abilities. Still, he'd have to see if Wolverine could get him a new one if this sort of thing was going to become a habit.

Breakfast was consumed in near silence. Everyone knew that the Final Test waited, and they were all preoccupied wondering what it might be. When they had finished eating, everyone turned to Harry expectantly. He gazed at their faces, and became aware that he'd never realised he had so many friends!

He shrugged and held up his hands. "Look, everyone, I've no more idea than the rest of you what we're going to come across. We're just going to have to do the best we can. If we look out for each other and stick together as much as we can, we can at least give Amagor a run for his money!

"All you Hogwarts people, I want you to bear in mind that Rogue is in charge of the X-Men, but that we're _not_ two separate teams. If she asks you or tells you to do something, please just do it, OK?"

There were nods of assent around the table, and then Rogue spoke up. "Hawk's right about me being team leader for the X-Men, but I'll say here and now that as far as I'm concerned, he's in overall command. This place is a wizard place--a _magic_ place-- so a wizard needs to be in charge. That means, X-Men, if Hawk says 'jump', y'all ask 'how high?' Don't be askin' me whether y'all should or not, got that?"

The reappearance of Rogue's drawl clearly indicated she meant what she said. Harry realised he was once again in charge of a dangerous situation. What shocked him the most was that he was beginning to _like_ that feeling.

Then the third bell rang, and the door swung open. Harry got to his feet. "All right. Good luck, everyone!" He led the way with Ginny beside him, holding tight to his hand.

They filed out into a vast arena under a grey sky in which a pale sun shone. For a moment they were alone, then, suddenly, across from them an army appeared. It was a wizard army, perhaps a hundred strong, and they stood quietly waiting while a tall figure stepped out of the ranks and moved towards the group of teenagers.

The man-if it _was_ a man-had dark hair and a bland face with pale blue eyes. He addressed Harry in a deep, yet oddly toneless, voice. "This is your final test, young Gryffindor." He produced an hourglass from his robe and turned it over. "When the sands run out, battle will commence. You have until then to prepare."

He set down the hourglass and returned to stand in front of his forces. Harry turned to his friends. "Well, this is plain enough--an all-out fight against superior numbers. How do we win?"

All eyes turned to Ron, whose face was already set in the oddly calm expression he assumed at times like this. "Everything here is flat; there's no advantage of terrain to be gained. We could conjure some fortifications, and Iceman can make a barrier, but that puts us solely on the defensive. I don't see any brooms, but since Sunfire can fly, we have air superiority, especially since Shiro can do a _lot_ of damage with those plasma bolts of his.

"What I don't like is the fact that if we elect to defend only, we lose full use of assets like Colossus, Sunspot and Wolfsbane. The same applies to us wizards. Harry, Ginny, Seamus and I all feel happier on the move and attacking. We're better on the offensive.

"Best plan I can come up with is for us to make a show of defending at first, but we have to be able to get our attacking forces in for fast strikes to thin out the enemy."

This started a more general round of discussion. Harry left them to it; he knew what he had to do.

Voldemort had opened the Labyrinth, kidnapped his friends, gone to great lengths for a single purpose-all to rid himself of Harry Potter! Without Harry, none of his friends would be in the slightest danger. Harry would have to do what was necessary. He would make a bargain with the Wizard general--a one-to-one duel to decide success or failure. If Harry won, well and good. If he lost, he would still save his friends. Harry would offer to take all the burden of failure, allow himself to be imprisoned here forever, serve Amagor for eternity, and even sacrifice his life, to get the people he loved out of the Labyrinth.

In that way, Voldemort could still be beaten. Only Harry and Dumbledore knew that the Prophecy could apply equally to Neville as to Harry himself. Out of the two of them, Harry knew Neville was the better man. Neville had no trace of the cold, ruthless other self Harry knew was growing inside him. The Wizarding world would be safe in Neville's hands; Harry could feel it!

A quick glance told Harry he was unobserved. He took a breath, checked that his wand was secure in the holster on his thigh, and set off towards the hourglass. But, before he had gone a yard, Ginny was there. She blocked his path, arms round his waist, squeezing with all her considerable strength, and glared up into his face. "Oh, no you don't, Harry! Not this time."

"Ginny, I..."

"Shut up! Just shut up, Harry! I know what you're thinking of doing. You were going to challenge that wizard to some stupid, single-combat type of thing, weren't you? _Weren't you?_"

"Well..." Harry mumbled.

"I _knew_ it! How many times do I have to say the same thing, Harry? When are you going to realise we're not going to let you get yourself killed?"

Harry sighed. "Look, Gin, you're all in here because of me. It's up to me to get you out if I can."

"No!" she snapped. "We're in here because Voldemort's a murderous, cowardly bastard who daren't face a straight fight. If it weren't you, it'd be someone else he'd be obsessing about."

Harry tried to free himself from her hold. Ginny hung on and yelled, "Help! Harry's doing it, again!"

Strong as she was, Ginny couldn't have restrained Harry, but then he felt Ron's big hands on his shoulders and knew that he could never break _that_ iron grip!

Ron spoke in a tone of exasperation. "For Merlin's sake, mate, when are you going to learn? I've been watching your arse--not a pretty sight, by the way-for the last six years. What makes you think I'm going to stop now?"

"Ron..."

"Can it, sugah!" Marie cut in, seizing Harry's left arm. "We're a _team_, remember? We do this together or not at all. You wanna do the lone hero bit, you gotta be Wolverine. You're good, honey, but you ain't that good!"

Hermione said into Harry's face, "Sweet Medea, Harry! I thought you'd know better by now. If you _ever_", she warned, now in full, strident flow, "try to do anything this _stupid_ ever again, Harry Potter, I'll give you a piece of my mind you'll never forget. And then I'll...I'll tell Aunt Molly. I _will_! And you know what _she'll_ say...

"Of all the pig-headed, macho, testosterone-driven _idiots_ in the world, Harry, you're about the worst! This _isn't_ Camelot, and you're _not_ Sir Lancelot! D'you hear me?"

Bobby murmured to Ron, "You actually _sleep_ with this woman?"

"Yeah."

"You're braver than I thought," Bobby observed.

"She's a handful," Ron admitted, all the while maintaining an unbreakable grip on his best friend.

By this time, everyone had gathered round, and from their expressions, it was quite clear they all felt the same way. Harry gave up with a sigh. "Look, whatever _some_ people might say," he said with a sour look for Ginny, "you're here because of me. I was just trying to make sure none of you got hurt. Is that so wrong?"

"It's not even the point, Harry," replied Neville. "We would have followed you into this place out of simple friendship because we all know you'd do the same for us. Fate or luck or something made you the Boy Who Lived. That means Voldemort has a special reason to go after you. But he's after the rest of us, too. He wants to rule the whole Wizarding world, and, after that, the Muggle one. I'd bet my last Knut that if he knew what Mutants were, he'd want to conquer them, as well. So this is as much our fight as it is yours."

Neville turned to Rogue. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak for you and the X-Men."

"It's OK, Neville," Marie said, nodding vigorously. "I'm a Gryffindor, too, remember? An' Hawk, heah, like I keep tellin' him, is an X-Man! Professor X may say we shouldn't get mixed up in your world's problems, but that don't mean we leave our friends in the lurch. So, Hawk, like it or not, we work together and you're in charge. What do _we_ do?"

Harry surveyed the group. "I must have done something right to have friends like you." He exhaled heavily. "Right, then. Iceman, you'll need to make a fortification of some kind that we can duck into when things get bad. Luna, Padma, Charm, Lavender, and Psyche had better support him. Rogue, you're in command of that unit.

"The rest of us are going to have to do the attacking. Like Hunter says, we can't just defend. Hunter, Wolfsbane, Seamus, Dazzler and Colossus will be one unit. Me, Neville, Firebird, Parvati and Sunspot will be another. Sunfire, you stay aloft and help where you're most needed. Ariel, there's nothing much that can touch you, so you're our scout." Harry screwed up his face. "Not much of a plan, I know, but we'll have to do our best with it."

Ginny turned her death-grip into a hug. "That's more like it! I love you, Harry."

"I love you, Ginny." Harry kissed her, blushing at doing so in public, but he made a thorough job of it anyway. Uninhibited Ginny responded enthusiastically. When they had finished, Hermione kissed one of Harry's cheeks firmly, and Marie the other lightly. Ron gave Harry's shoulders one last squeeze, and released him.

Harry blurted out, "Thank you all-just thought I'd better say that now!" He smiled. "Those sands are almost gone. Let's do this!"

Harry took the lead, and they advanced as a group. The wizard general stepped forward to meet them. As they came within speaking distance, he bowed and spoke again. "Are you prepared?"

"We are," replied Harry formally.

The wizard bowed, again. "Then the Test of Unity has been passed. Farewell." With that, he and his army vanished!

For a moment, the youngsters stood nonplussed. Then the arena became a large stone chamber, and once again the ambivalent figure of Amagor stood before them. "Behold!" he declared in a ringing voice. "You are victorious over the Labyrinth. I do homage to your worth!" he bowed low to them all.

Harry finally found his voice. "We...won? But what about the Final Test?"

"The Test of Unity," Amagor explained, "is the greatest of all the tests. Measuring skill, courage, wit and honour of young wizards is a simple thing. Such qualities can be learned in schools or are bred into the bone.

"But, from the beginnings of Hogwarts, there was rivalry between the Four, and so between the Houses they founded. That rivalry ran from friendly competition to bitter enmity, rising and falling as the years passed.

"Thus the Final Test is to know if those of the four Houses could put aside their differences and stand together at the last. This Test you have passed, and so you may leave the Labyrinth with pride."

Amagor gestured to a door behind him. "Beyond that door, I may not go. There you will find the Room of Departure. Of old, four portals led to the private homes of the Four. When they passed away, a Portkey to Hogwarts was set there. That is now gone, but one of the portals has opened-that which leads to Salazar's Keep."

Amagor stepped closer to Harry. "To you, I say this, Dunadan. My power ends in this chamber. What awaits you beyond the door is none of my doing, and it is a thing most dishonourable.

"This also I shall say: My knowledge of what lies beyond my domain is limited, but the Keep of Slytherin is, as we speak, a place of battle. You will find enemies as well as friends.

He turned to address all the students. "But now, you are done with my Labyrinth. Hail to you all, brave Gryffindors, lore-wise Ravenclaws, and Children of the Future!" Amagor bowed once more before he disappeared.

There was a moment's silence before the room erupted in a storm of cheers, hugs, kisses and backslapping. Harry joined in for a while, but Amagor's words kept nagging at him. Eventually, people quieted down, and he took the opportunity to get their attention.

"Listen..._listen_! We're not out of this, yet." Harry looked at them all. "Amagor said that there was something more--something aimed at me, that he had nothing to do with--"

Harry was shouted down. From the cacophony, he got the very clear message that he was _not_ to be allowed to go through the door alone. He found himself laughing. "All right! All right! We go in together, then."

Flanked by Marie and Ron, with Hermione and Bob close behind, and with Ginny's arm firmly round his waist, Harry approached the door. It swung open without being touched, revealing a very large, well-lit chamber.

The room was circular. At the four points of the compass were four large windows. Above each window was the crest of one of the Hogwarts Houses: lion, raven, badger and serpent. Three of the windows looked out onto Stygian blackness, but the serpent-crested Slytherin window opened onto another circular chamber.

Harry barely noticed this; his full attention was drawn to the object in the centre of the room. It was a tall, thick pillar of pure crystal, and in the centre of it hung a suspended human figure-an oddly familiar figure. Harry stepped closer...it couldn't be...it was! _Sirius?_

"Sirius!" Harry let go of Ginny and dashed toward the pillar, only to be stopped, yards short, by a shimmering barrier.

"What?" Ginny caught up with him, and then stepped forward. The barrier didn't stop her, and she and Hermione went right up to the pillar. Ron tried to follow, but again, the barrier sprang up.

"It seems only women can get near him," remarked Ron.

"No surprise there," said Hermione over her shoulder. "They say Sirius was quite the flirt at Hogwarts. Once in a while at Grimmauld Place, he'd even tease me."

"Can't say I blame him," replied Ron. "Can you, Roberto?"

"Not really...oh!" Roberto shot a quick, apprehensive look at Ron, who just grinned and winked at him.

Dani glanced between the two of them and asked. "Is anything going on here I should know about?"

"Don't worry, Dani," said Ron. "I'll explain it all to you later, when we have a private moment. All right, Roberto?"

Sunspot grinned. "Fine by me, Ron. You catch on quick, _amigo_."

"Will you lot pack it in!" snarled Harry. "We don't have time for this! Hermione, Ginny, is he all right?"

"Keep your shirt on, Harry," said Hermione abstractedly. "He's alive, in some kind of suspended animation, I think. But why the barrier? Why would someone want to keep men away from him?"

Neville called to Harry. "You'd better have a look at this."

Harry jogged over. Neville indicated a small table on which were three objects: an hourglass with all the sand in the upper portion, a vial of some potion, and a scroll addressed to Harry.

He picked up the scroll at once. As soon as he broke the seal, the sand in the hourglass began to trickle slowly down. Harry read the scroll; his face twisted and he threw it down without a word, turning away and stalking off alone. The others gathered around, then Hermione picked up the scroll and began to read aloud in a soft but clear voice:

_Voldemort, Lord of the Wizarding World, to the rebel Harry Potter, greetings._

_If you are reading this, then you have surmounted the perils of the Labyrinth. My felicitations; however, here is one dilemma even the djinn Amagor could not resolve._

_Did it never occur to you to ask your masters if Sirius Black could be retrieved from beyond the Veil? Such a Summoning is simple enough for one truly dead-for one alive, it is a bagatelle. But the ritual is one of Necromancy, which your foolish teachers call a Dark Art and refuse to practise. Thus it is they who have denied you your last link to your family._

_Now, I have restored your godfather to you, but as ever, I demand my price! The crystal that holds Black can only be shattered by one thing: the unique Patronus spirit which only you can summon. But only a female can cross the barrier that encircles the crystal. Even the Patronus cannot cross it, but must be summoned from within._

_The potion you find here will effect a single, irreversible change in you. It will transform you into a woman. Thus, in one stroke, I return you your godfather and free us both from the Prophecy that so weighs on us! _

_Act quickly, Potter! When you opened this scroll, the sands began to run, and Black's life runs with them!_

_Lord Voldemort_

By the time she had finished reading, Hermione was white to the lips, and her eyes were blazing. Ron's comments blistered the air. Ginny looked as if she'd been punched in the stomach; without a word, she went over to Harry.

Harry had been wrestling with himself. He wanted Sirius back; he _needed_ him back! Remus Lupin was now the only living link to Harry's parents, and Harry would not add to that man's burdens with his neediness. Harry knew in his heart of hearts that Molly and Arthur Weasley would always be there for him-that they would gladly take the place of the parents he had lost. In fact, Harry already felt that way about them. But Sirius had given up so much, suffered so much, only to be snatched away just as he was on the point of re-entering normal life.

Sirius had been lost trying to save Harry. Harry owed him a wizard's debt. There was also a part of Harry that craved escape from the Prophecy--that ached to be free from being the Boy Who Lived. If Harry took the potion, the Prophecy would pass to Neville. Neville was a good, brave, man, but was Harry prepared to thrust such a burden onto a friend?

What would Sirius say? He would gladly sacrifice himself, as he had twice before. He would urge Harry to stay in the fight, to fulfil his destiny. But could he, Harry Potter, leave a friend to die when the means to save that friend lay in his hands?

Harry couldn't decide, and he had so little time! Then he felt Ginny behind him and turned to her. "Help me Ginny. Tell me what to do," he whispered.

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I can't, Harry. I didn't really know Sirius that well, though I know he means a lot to you. But all I want is you, Harry!" She managed a crooked smile. "I'm pretty uninhibited, but I don't fancy you as a girlfriend."

Hermione and Ron had drawn closer. Harry turned to them. "I know you want to help, but you can't. Ron, you've been my strong right arm all this time, but this isn't a fight you can join in. Hermione, you're the still, small voice of reason, but this is outside anything even your intelligence can solve."

"Then perhaps I'm the one," said Kitty's calm voice. "You're thinking like a wizard, Harry. Don't limit yourself that way."

She took his hand and led him to the barrier. Harry felt a peculiar sensation as she phased them both, then she stepped across the barrier. As Harry followed, the spell sprang up against him. Harry passed partially though it before pain lanced his frame. He gritted his teeth to push through, but then he heard Kitty moan; the barrier was hurting her, too! Harry let go at once, and was flung out of the barrier across the room. Ginny ran to him as he struggled to rise.

"How's Kitty?" Harry croaked.

"I'm fine," she called from Peter's arms. "Why did you let go?"

"It was hurting you!"

"I could've stood it!"

"I didn't know that," Harry told Kitty. "I couldn't risk you."

She was about to protest more, but Peter shushed her as Rogue came up to Harry. She looked him in the eye and said, "There's more than one way to skin a cat, honey!"

He stared at her with wide eyes. He spoke so only she could hear. "Marie, are you sure? I know from...before...how hard it is for you. I didn't want to ask."

"For you, Harry, I can do it." She smiled. "You're not a Dementor, after all. Give me a minute."

She moved away and spoke quietly to Bobby. He nodded, smiled and kissed her on the forehead. She gestured Harry over. "O.K. You know how to do this spell, so just as soon as I'm through the barrier, I'll let you take over and do your stuff. You ready, sugah?" Harry nodded.

Rogue jerked her head at Harry, saying, "He's gonna keel over when I'm done." Wordlessly, Ron and Peter took up positions on either side of Harry.

Harry asked, "How do we do this? Do we hold hands or something?"

Marie shook her head. "No way! I think we both deserve a little better than that!"

She came close to him, looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. It was a soft, lingering, surprisingly passionate kiss that Harry couldn't help returning before he fell away into darkness. Peter and Ron lowered his inert form gently to the floor. Ron took his wand from the holster and handed it to Rogue, unnerved to see Harry's green eyes staring out of Marie's lovely face. "Thanks, mate," she said, and turned to the barrier.

Harry was strong, Rogue realised, perhaps stronger than she was, but for now he was content to ride in her mind. Her female body passed the barrier without a hitch, and now she faced the crystal pillar. The man inside--she felt a rush of emotion toward him--was conscious. He was staring, horrified, at the figure approaching him.

Rogue put thoughts of him out of her mind, calling now on the part of her that was Harry. He surged forward and began to summon up images: a phantom memory of his real parents; a whirling, airborne, exultant chaos; the cosy warmth of The Burrow; Ron and Hermione kissing passionately in the Common Room; Harry and Kitty, locked in an embrace in the arboretum at Xavier's; Harry and Ginny, kissing on a hilltop in the sunset. Rogue realised what was happening and instinctively began to summon happy memories of her own, adding them to Harry's, trying to help in any way she could.

For a moment, their minds merged almost completely, and they raised their wand and cried, "_Expecto Patronum!_" There was a blaze of silver light that condensed into the form of a magnificent stag. The stag lowered its head and charged the pillar. But as it did so, Harry/Rogue noticed another form that flew behind the larger creature. It was faint, little more than a shadow, a two-foot long silver dragonfly! How?

Then the stag struck the pillar, and the crystal shattered with a ringing sound. Sirius collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. The stag turned and trotted back to Rogue. Before she could touch its muzzle, the stag vanished along with its smaller companion. Rogue collected herself and ran over to Sirius.

_As Sirius entered the Whispering Veil, he felt himself being pulled. It hadn't been like this before! Then with a wrench, he was standing on a damp stone floor, surrounded by smoky orange fires. A tall figure stood beyond one of the fires. As it moved toward him, he saw a gleam of red eyes. "Elric?" he hazarded. Had his albino friend managed to follow him? The figure gave a harsh laugh and raised a wand. Everything went black._

They had sealed him in the pillar, and as they had done so, Narcissa had explained their plan to him. Then he had slept only to awaken with the awareness that his supply of air was running out. To his horror, he had seen a female figure approach the crystal and raise a wand. _Harry? No!_ And, yet, the unmistakable form of Harry's Patronus charged down on the Pillar.

Sirius felt strong hands on him. He opened his eyes to look up into a striking, female face. "Harry?"

"No," the girl said, her accent unmistakably American. "Not Harry. My name's Marie, or you can call me _Rogue_. Can you walk, Sirius Black?"

Now that Sirius could see her clearly, he realised that this was not a female Harry. Her hair was dark, but not Harry's jet black, and there was a streak of pure white near her face. Her eyes were grey. She was wearing some kind of uniform made of black leather, though she wore a Gryffindor badge over her heart. With her aid, Sirius began to struggle to his feet. "What? How?"

"It's complicated," she said. "I'll explain in a minute. I can't hold him for much longer. C'mon!"

Sirius was a little stiff, but otherwise in fairly good shape. He didn't need the girl's support as he approached the cluster of young people who stood nearby. He focused on the figure lying, apparently asleep, on the floor.

There was Harry! He looked to be asleep, lying with his head in the lap of a little redhead-the Weasley girl, Sirius realised. Her gaze was fixed on Harry's face, and she was gently stroking his forehead. _Oho!_ thought Sirius. _It seems my godson hasn't been idle while I've been gone._ Then noted with a pang that this was another milestone in Harry's life that he had missed. He wondered at Harry's black uniform.

Sirius looked around. Two boys in uniforms were standing guard over Harry's inert form. One of them he recognised as Ron Weasley. _Merlin! That lad's turned into a bruiser. Wouldn't like to meet him in a dark alley._ The other was even bigger-a dark-haired giant that Sirius didn't know.

There were nearly twenty teenagers gathered in the room. Some of them, Sirius could place from the time he had spent spying out Hogwarts, trying to find Harry and Pettigrew. There was the Longbottom lad, with the Brown girl latched onto his arm. That was the Irish kid, Finnigan. Sirius didn't know the stunning strawberry blonde in black who was draping herself over him. Then there were two Indian girls, so alike they could only be the Patil twins, and one more girl in ordinary clothes.

_Who were the rest of the youngsters in the uniforms?_ Sirius spotted Hermione Granger coming toward him. As she did so, the girl who had rescued him-Marie?-swayed and clutched his arm. He turned to her, asking, "Are you all right?"

She blinked. "Yeah, I'm OK. It's just starting to go back. This is gonna take a while, people," she said to the company in general. "Y'all better take five."

The next moment, a sandy-haired lad had taken hold of Marie. He grinned at Sirius. "It's OK, Mr. Black. I got her. It gets her like this sometimes."

Hermione said briskly, "Sirius, there's a lot to explain, so I'd better do it while Harry and Marie recover. Ron? Come and give me a hand?"

"OK, pet!" Ron turned to a gangly, fair-haired youth. "Sam? Can you watch Harry with Peter?"

"Sure thing, pal."

The three of them moved off a little way, and sat against the wall. Sirius watched amusedly while Hermione nestled herself against Ron with a little sigh of contentment. Things _had_ changed!

"Time was, you two used to drive each other up the wall," he commented.

"Oh, we still do," grinned Ron, "just in a slightly different way."

"I'll bet!" Sirius smiled again, then got to business. "So, what just happened? When I first saw, er, Marie, coming through the barrier, I thought Harry had taken that damned potion."

Hermione shook her head. "No. What happened was that Marie used her Mutant power to absorb- to 'borrow', if you like-Harry's wizard skills and knowledge. The Barrier Charm couldn't stop her because she's female, and once inside it, she used Harry's magic to summon the Patronus."

Sirius stared at her. "That explains exactly nothing." He held up a hand before Hermione could speak again. "Start from the beginning, please. How long have I been gone?"

"Just over a year," Hermione told him. She told him how the battle at the Ministry had ended and then focused on Dumbledore's discovery of the Mutant community. She tried, as best she could, to explain what a Mutant was. Hermione went on to talk about the exchange scheme in the spring, sketching the adventures of the three friends at Xavier's as well as the exploits of the three young X-Men at Hogwarts. Finally, she told Sirius about the kidnapping of their friends, Voldemort's visit to The Burrow, and recent events in the Labyrinth.

Sirius did his best to take it all in. "Do you mean to tell me that those kids came all the way from America just because you were in trouble?" He shook his head. "I didn't realise they still made friendships like that. Seems I missed a few other things, as well," Sirius added, nodding toward Ron and Hermione. "How has Harry been?"

"He went through a bad patch after you fell into the Veil," Ron told Sirius. "Blamed himself, y'know. In America, it was better. He kind of healed inside, especially when he and Kitty there," Ron gestured toward her, "got together. But they called it quits before we came back, and now he's taken up with my _sister_," Ron said, screwing up his face. "Can't imagine what he sees in her."

Sirius let that pass. He could see what Harry saw in Ginny Weasley. Then there was a sudden commotion, and Sirius jumped to his feet as a recovered Harry dashed over to him. The others left them alone for a while.

After the hugging and backslapping was all done, Sirius held Harry away from him a moment and looked him up and down. "Merlin!" he said. "You've become quite the young man, Harry. You get more like James every time I see you--except he never had those muscles, and you've still got Lily's eyes."

Harry grinned. "You can thank Wolverine for the muscles!" When Sirius looked blank, Harry explained, "Wolverine is one of the X-Men. But you, Sirius, what about you? What was it like beyond the Veil?"

Sirius's eyes became far away for a moment. "It's like nothing you can imagine. I've been to places, seen things, and met people there. I don't know what the Veil may be for the dead, but for the living, it's a portal to countless worlds. Every time I entered one, I had to find a way out and try again to make my way home. I might still be drifting from world to world, if Voldemort hadn't intercepted me that last time. I only regret that I left a friend behind."

"Perhaps he came through with you, and Voldemort's got him," said Harry grimly.

Sirius didn't think so. "If Elric had come through with me, Voldemort would no longer be a threat to anyone."

At the name _Elric_, Harry's mind turned upside down. He had a sudden image, or memory, of a tall, slender man, with bone-white hair and skin, and sorrowful, crimson eyes, dressed in black armour and wielding a huge black broadsword carved with terrible runes. Then the image was gone.

Harry focused on the present. "Look, Sirius, we'll have time to talk about everything later, but right now, I've got to get my people out of here."

As Harry moved back into the crowd, Sirius realised two things. One was that, even though he was the only adult here, it would be a mistake to try to take charge. The other was that Harry was not as much like James as Sirius might have wanted him to be. There was an edge of hard competence to the lad that James had never had. James Potter had seen life as a sport, a challenge; Harry was all business. _Well, James had an easy life, right up until the end_, thought Sirius. _Harry's had a hard one, and that's partly my fault. _Sirius promised himself that somehow, someday, he would make it up to Harry.

As soon as she had recovered, Marie made her way over to Ginny. She had something to explain to her friend. "Ginny, honey..." she began, then stopped as Ginny turned to her with glowing eyes.

"He kissed me!" Ginny exulted. "Before he even asked about Sirius or you, as soon as he woke up, Harry put his arms round me and kissed me! D'you know what that means?"

Marie smiled. "It means he loves you, Ginny. Everybody knows that!"

"Everybody except me," said Ginny. "I was almost used to the idea that I was less important to him than his bloody duty or his friends or-oh, I don't know what. But he thought of me _first_." Ginny sighed, off in a little world of her own for a moment, then she said, "Sorry, Marie. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah. Ginny, when I kissed Harry back there..."

Ginny held up a hand. "Forget it," she said graciously. "Harry told me last night you two had nearly had a _moment_. I'm just pleased you both got it out of your systems."

The two girls hugged; they were, after all, good friends. What Ginny couldn't know, of course, was that Marie knew just _exactly_ how Harry felt about Ginny.

"Excuse me, Marie," Sirius interrupted. He smiled at her a little awkwardly. "I never thanked you for what you did for me and for Harry." He put out a hand, which Marie took.

"No problem, Mr. Black. I'm kinda double obligated to Harry since he's an X-Man and I'm a Gryffindor, and all. If we don't look out for each other, who else will?"

Sirius shook his head. "I'm going to be weeks working all this out. What's an X-Man? How does an American become a Gryffindor? What exactly is a Mutant?" When Rogue began to answer, he said, "No, don't try to explain now. I need to talk to Ginny, here, in private. If you'll excuse us?"

Marie nodded, and went over to Bobby. Sirius turned to Ginny, who was looking at him apprehensively. He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Now, look, Ginny, I've not exactly been the best godfather in the world to Harry. In fact, I've let him down badly when it comes to looking after him--"

"It wasn't your fault!" Ginny protested. "Pettigrew framed you, and you ended up in Azkaban for years. Even if you hadn't been there, those Dursleys wouldn't have let you anywhere near Harry. He told me that they were desperate to keep him away from wizards and Hogwarts and everything."

"That may be so, but the blame has to be partially mine. I should have accepted my responsibility to become James' and Lily's Secret-Keeper as James requested," Sirius countered. "But you're right that that's all in the past. Ginny, I want to talk about the future. I intend to be part of Harry's future, and I know you do, as well. All I want to do is to ask you to help me look after Harry. Together, we might just be able to keep him safe and sane. Will you help me?"

Ginny looked surprised. "Of course I will. So will Ron and Hermione and Marie and...and even Kitty, I suppose. We'll look after him, all of us. Merlin knows he can't look after himself!"

It was at that point that Harry called for everyone's attention. "Right, listen! It's obvious that there's only one exit from here. If Amagor was telling the truth, it leads to a place called Salazar's Keep. Amagor also said there was a battle going on there, and that we'd find both friends and enemies.

"Now, looking through that window, the room beyond is empty, so it's probably safe to go that far. After that, we'll have to play it by ear. Are we all ready?"

Everyone was. This time, though, Marie insisted that Colossus go through first in case there was anything big and nasty waiting on the other side. Sirius watched in astonishment as the heavily-built young man who'd been standing guard over Harry suddenly transformed into a being of living steel!

Moments later, Peter reported that the room was apparently safe and clear. The others followed him in.

The chamber was a large octagon lit by blue-flamed lamps. The room was furnished with chairs, tables and a desk, all clean and dust free. Metal shutters were closed across the windows, and the only exit was a trapdoor in the floor, which was locked.

As soon as Harry stepped into the room, he 'heard' something-a voice in his head, calling his name. For a moment, he thought it might be Professor X, but this voice was female. The White Queen? Why would Emma Frost be trying to communicate with him?

_Harry? Harry Potter! Look on the desk!_

He went over to the oak desk. There were a number of objects on it, only one of which drew his attention. There, in a simple, silver frame, was a wizard photograph of...his parents! Without thinking, he picked it up.

As soon as Ginny realised that Harry was gone from her side, she turned to look for him. He was standing by the desk, picking up something. Ginny started towards him, then gave a yelp of alarm when Harry's form shimmered and vanished!

**Chapter 10: Close Encounters of Many Kinds**

When the swirl of the Portkey stopped, Harry found himself in-_a bedroom_? A very _feminine_ bedroom, all white wood and pink silk, by the look of it. Even the four-poster bed had pink curtains and sheets. _What the bloody...?_

From a half-open door nearby came trails of scented steam and the sound of running water. Harry took a step forward, and a silvery bell rang. A tremulous woman's voice called through the door, "Who's there?"

"Er, me. Harry Potter," he called back.

"_Harry? _Oh, thank the gods! Don't move. I'll be out in a second."

Narcissa smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror. Let Bellatrix play sultry dominatrix if she wished, but Narcissa defied any man to resist a helpless, scared, fluffy little woman! She carefully arranged the folds of her lustrous silk dressing gown to look as if she had just pulled it on, making sure it clung to every moist curve. Then she dabbed on a little mildly aphrodisiac perfume-not too much, she wanted this to be seduction, not a drugged frenzy. Her hair hung in damp curls, and her white skin was dewy, as if from a bath. She pinched her cheeks to make them look flushed, took a breath, then dashed out into the bedroom.

Harry knew her, of course, but why was she here? "_Mrs Malfoy_?"

She ran up to him, putting her hands on his chest, surprised at the feel of the muscles there. Narcissa searched his face, eyes anxious, lips slightly parted. "Harry," she breathed. "Oh, it worked. I'm so glad to see you! Don't worry, Draco's not here, and I sent the house-elves away. We're safe for now."

Harry was completely confused. "Mrs Malfoy, what's going on? _What _worked?"

Narcissa gazed at him with enormous, blue eyes. "How can I make you understand?" She took his hands and drew him down beside her to sit on the bed.

"When they locked Lucius away, I thought I was free of it all, but the Dark Lord had already initiated Draco. He's as fanatical as his father; I'm terrified of both of them." Her voice trembled convincingly. "Draco told me I had to obey him. He took me to Salazar's Keep, made me help him set that final trap for you. But I managed to slip that photograph onto the desk. I knew if you saw it, you'd pick it up. I prayed you'd get my mental message. You did, and it brought you here safe!"

Harry was trying to keep a grip. Narcissa was so close he could feel the warmth of her body through the thin robe and, like any seventeen-year-old boy, his own body was responding automatically to the presence of a near-naked woman.

"Why?" he asked, his voice thick.

"Why? Because I _hate_ their Dark Lord! I hate him and everything he stands for!" For the moment, Narcissa wasn't even lying-not completely. "Lord Voldemort has had my husband and son in thrall all their lives. And they _like_ it; they live for him!" Her face went sad. "Harry, families like the Blacks and the Malfoys don't allow their children to marry for anything as frivolous as love. My parents forced me to marry Lucius, and _he_ forced me to serve the Dark Lord."

Narcissa sighed, then made a show of confessing, "There's something else. Ever since Draco started Hogwarts, he's been talking about you. He hates you, you know. Every time he's tried to achieve something to make Lucius proud, you've been there. You've outdone Draco, beaten him, and made him look a fool at every turn. He's eaten up with bitterness!

"But I'd never really seen you until the end of this last term. I was at the station, waiting for Draco, and you and your friends got off the train first. You had your arm round a girl with red hair, I remember. You were wearing Muggle clothes-a black, sleeveless T-shirt and jeans. I couldn't look at anything else. I knew it was you, because somebody called your name, and you answered. Then you leaned down and kissed the girl with such tenderness, and oh, Harry, how I envied _her_."

To counter Harry's shocked expression, she added quickly, "I know you probably think I'm a silly old woman, but I'm not so old that I can't want things--a little gentleness, warmth--the things I saw in you."

Harry's head was in a whirl. One set of instincts was screaming at him to get out of there. Another, more primitive set was urging him to take what was so obviously being offered. Narcissa leaned forward as she spoke to him, apparently unaware that the front of her robe had parted. Against his will, Harry's eyes were drawn to the gap where almost the whole of one pearly, perfect breast was exposed. He could even see the delicate pink nipple.

Narcissa followed his eyes, allowing herself a small smile of triumph while his attention was elsewhere. She felt her nipples harden under his gaze, _Hecate!_ she thought, _I really do want this one!_ Narcissa had had many lovers; she enjoyed sex, using men for her pleasure as well as her plotting, but this lad was making her feel something different. She wanted to keep him for herself! The boy looked up at her again, and she manufactured a blush. Something about his compelling, green eyes sent a flood of heat through her.

"I'm sorry, I've embarrassed you," she said, "but I'm afraid and lonely, and you're so strong..." She let her voice trail off, then reached out and pulled herself against him, feeling his arms instinctively come round her. Almost there! He would be hers soon--for an hour at least, if she were lucky, perhaps a little longer.

Her face buried in his chest, Narcissa didn't see Harry's eyes suddenly lose their focus.

_Snap out of it, Harry. You cannot trust that woman!_

_Professor?_ The familiar mental touch brought a flash of clarity to Harry's badly muddled brain. _What's going on?_

_She is attempting to use you for her own purposes. _

_Are you sure, Professor?_

_Look into her mind, Harry. You have the capability._

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, opening his mind to Narcissa's. The Professor was right! Oh, there was genuine desire, all right. The forefront of her mind held some very distracting images of her body entwined with his. But, beneath that level, were other images, flashes of himself being twisted into a cold, ruthless, figurehead for some shadowy group...the Knights of something...he couldn't catch it all.

_That's enough for now, Harry. Your abilities are still undeveloped. You must not overtax yourself._

_Thanks, Professor._

_What will you do now, Hawk?_

_Perhaps I'll give her a little of her own medicine!_

He felt Xavier's mental chuckle. _I'm afraid Logan taught you too well, Harry. Be careful._

Harry felt Xavier withdraw. The whole exchange had taken perhaps thirty seconds, but it had been enough. Harry could feel that hard-edged part of his mind rising to the surface. He welcomed it.

Narcissa drew back from him. Harry put his hands on her shoulders and made himself speak hesitantly. "Mrs Malfoy..."

She put her fingers to his lips. "_Narcissa_, please, Harry darling."

He kissed her fingers before she could remove them. "Narcissa, then. I don't...I shouldn't. I mean, you're married and I..."

She smiled at him. "Darling, don't think," she urged, "just follow your feelings."

He forced his hands to tremble slightly as he slipped the robe off her shoulders and drew her to him. She offered up her mouth, and he opened his to her darting tongue. He ran the fingers of one hand down her bare spine.

Narcissa quivered and moaned softly into Harry's mouth. _Gods! He's good at this! Instinct? Or is he more experienced than I thought? _Harry's other hand was cupping her face. As they kissed, she felt that hand slide sensuously down her neck.

Then the lights went out.

Harry's eyes were like ice as he lowered Narcissa down to the bed. A little judicious pressure with his thumb in just the right place meant he hadn't had to hurt her, just disappoint her a little. He lifted her legs onto the bed and made her comfortable, covering her with a sheet. His heart was pounding, and his lower regions were in some discomfort-thank Merlin his amorous interludes with Ginny over the months had saved him from complete embarrassment!

He took a deep breath and cleared his mind as Ororo had taught him. (Ron had fidgeted throughout Meditation classes, but Harry and Hermione had both benefited from them.) Now Harry calmed his mind and his over-eager body, so that he was immediately alert to the sound of ironic applause.

Draco Malfoy stood by the bedroom door, clapping sardonically. "Bravo, Potter," he drawled. "Unexpected and quite remarkable."

Harry drew his wand, but Draco held up empty hands. "Truce, Potter. I know when I'm overmatched. Physically or magically, you've got the better of me, and I'm not such a fool as to challenge you."

Draco moved over to the bed; Harry moved away, keeping distance between them. Draco considered his unconscious mother for a moment, and shook his head. "I keep track of her manoeuvrings, and father's, too. It's a tedious business, but useful. Neither of them cares who the other sleeps with, yet their lovers often have other partners who might object. A word or two in the right ear can open doors, you know?"

Harry's lip curled. "You're disgusting, Malfoy!"

Draco shrugged. "I have to look out for myself. D'you think either of my parents give a damn about me? They're too busy playing their games." He shook his head disdainfully. "The Portkey is on the dressing table. It will take you back to the Keep. The Order and your freakish friends have pretty much taken the place to pieces by now, I should think. Join them, and do try to have the decency to get yourself killed in the process, if you would."

Harry backed over to the dressing table, glanced at it and saw the Portkey. The frame was now empty, but he thought it would still work. As he was about to pick it up, Draco's eyes narrowed and he spoke again.

"Why, Harry?"

"Why what?"

Draco turned to him with curious eyes. "I know the Hat offered you Slytherin, but you chose Gryffindor. And yet," Draco gestured at Narcissa's inert form, "the way you dealt with dear Mama here was slick--too slick for a Gryffindor. That was something I might have done. We're the same, you and I, in some ways. So why are we enemies?"

"You chose the wrong side, Draco. You belong to Voldemort, the scum who killed my parents!" Harry snarled.

"Sides," Draco scoffed. "It's not about _sides_, Harry. The only side I'm on is _my_ side. It could have been, still could be, _our_ side. Think about _that_, Harry. Oh, stay with the Order if you like, help them get shut of Riddle if you can. But if you succeed, he'll be gone, the Order will dissolve, and there'll be a whole new world out there. A world you and I could rule."

"You're mad."

"No, I'm practical. Think about it, Harry. There's a place at my right hand that's empty. It's waiting for you to claim it, Harry Potter, on the day the scales fall from your eyes."

Draco stalked off before Harry could reply. Harry wanted to be quit of this place as fast as possible. He picked up the Portkey, and the world swirled away. He was back in the Keep, where Ginny flung herself at him with a joyful cry.

Harry's disappearance was cause for instant consternation. Ginny was absolutely sure that he had activated a Portkey, but how or why?

"He must have done it by accident," Hermione speculated. "It could have been left here since the Keep was closed. It might have been Salazar Slytherin's personal Portkey!"

"Then why leave it here?" countered Sirius. "It's some kind of trap, most likely Voldemort's doing. Had to be something Voldemort knew would get Harry's attention, but no one else's."

"Either way," said Luna, "we don't know where Harry is. We can't reach him."

"Yes, we can," Marie interjected. "Hawk has his communicator. If we're out of the Labyrinth, the satellite link should be working." Following up on this thought, Marie tried to call Harry. Her efforts raised nothing but static.

"Too much magic for Muggle technology to work," Sirius suggested.

Marie shook her head. "Uh-uh. These units are EMP shielded. They worked fine at Hogwarts."

Kitty was examining the window shutters. "Rogue, I think these may have something to do with it. These shutters are lead, not aluminum or iron. And they're locked," she added, tugging at one.

"Well, we'll see about that!" Hermione strode over to the nearest. "Let's let in some daylight. _Alohomora!_" The shutter Hermione had targeted swung open.

The other wizards set about the business of opening the remaining shutters, but as the last one gave way, Rogue suddenly raised a hand. "Hold it, people. It's Professor X!"

Marie's eyes went unfocused for a while. Sirius leaned close to Ron. "What's happening? Who's Professor X?"

Ron led him aside so as not to break Marie's concentration. "Professor X is Professor Xavier. He runs the Mutant school in America. He's what they call a telepath-like a Legilimens, only more so. He can send his thoughts into people's minds, as well as read theirs. He's sort of talking to Rogue right now."

After a slight pause, Ron added, "Look, Sirius, just between me and you--Harry might tell you himself, or he might not--but _I_ think you need to know that Harry has a touch of the same power. He's what Professor X calls a 'latent telepath', which means he can't just use the talent any time he wants. Professor X taught him to shield his mind from Voldemort or any kind of Legilimency. The only other people who know about this are Hermione, Ginny, and some of the teachers at Hogwarts and Xavier's." Ron took a deep breath. "What _they_ don't know, 'cos Harry only told me, is that it's getting stronger! He keeps getting these _flashes_. You're going to have to watch him, Sirius, same as I do. If it gets too strong, Harry's going to have to go back to Professor X for more training. Just keep it under your hat for now, though; you know how bloody-minded Harry can be."

Sirius said nothing, but reached out to grasp Ron's arm by way of thanks. It felt like an iron bar.

Rogue called them over then. "OK, I just got an update on Harry. He's at Malfoy Manor, wherever that is."

"That's where our old pal Jerko Malfoy lives, is it?" asked Bobby

"Probably. But our favorite blond butthead isn't involved in this, apparently. Now listen up: Harry's not in any _physical_ danger right now, but he does have a problem. The Professor says he's gonna help, and it should be OK."

"What kind of problem?" Hermione wanted to know.

Marie wrinkled up her face. "Woman trouble, it seems. Someone called Narcissa is after Harry's body."

"Draco's _mother_? Ewww!" Ginny groaned. "What does that skinny cow want with Harry? Wait 'til I get my hands on the kinky hag! I'll teach her a thing or two!"

Sirius chuckled. "Doubt it, Ginny. Narcissa's been at this a long time."

"She should act her age!" Ginny protested, outraged.

Sirius opened his mouth, then caught Ginny's eye and thought better of it. The little auburn-haired American girl-Harry's ex-girlfriend Kitty, he recalled-also looked aghast. _Still some feelings there, then, _Sirius thought.

The big, dark-haired lad called Peter, or Colossus, put his hands on Ginny's shoulders. "Chill, babe," he rumbled. "Harry can handle it. If the Professor says he's gonna help, you can take that to the bank."

Hermione had buried her face in Ron's chest; Sirius guessed she was doing her best not to burst into giggles. Lavender was less inhibited, or less polite, and Peter had to forcibly restrain Ginny from attacking her Housemate.

Dani muttered to Roberto, "If this Narcissa has the same luck with Harry _I_ did, she's cruisin' for a bruisin'."

Fortunately for all of them, there was a sudden distraction. Sam and Rahne had been looking out of the windows, and now Rahne gave an excited shout. "Rogue! Look! That's Storm out there!"

Rogue dashed to the window, then spoke into her communicator. "Rogue to Storm- Do you copy?"

"Storm here. Rogue, where are you?"

"In the tower, at your three o'clock."

"I see you. On my way." Sam opened the window, and moments later, Storm flew in through it.

This was to be a day of shocks for Sirius. The first shock was that the woman flew without a broom. The second came as she settled gracefully down in the centre of the room, and swung her gaze around them all.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Sirius had ever seen. Tall, with a sensuously curved figure the close-fitting leather uniform enhanced, she moved with a regal poise. Her face was _perfect_; there was no other word for it. There was warmth in her coffee-coloured skin and dark eyes, strength in the flawless bone structure, and sensuality in the generous mouth. The flowing mane of silver-white hair entranced him. Sirius could not take his eyes off her as she greeted the young people with the warmth of a family member.

Ororo could have almost wept with relief: they were all here, all safe and well, all her little brothers and sisters! She went from one to the other, greeting them by name, looking them over, hugging them eagerly. When it came to Hermione and Ron, Storm was especially glad to see them; it had been far too long, and she had missed them both.

When Storm asked about Harry, Marie related what Professor X had told her. Then she was introduced to their other friends from Hogwarts, youngsters she had heard about, but never met.

It wasn't until Ororo had satisfied herself that the teenagers were all well that she turned to the other adult in the room. Charm stepped forward. "Ororo, this is Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius, this is Ororo Monroe, who is called _Storm_."

For a moment, Ororo couldn't speak. The man was tall, lean and riveting. His face was thin but striking, marked with experience, and the magnetic eyes locked on hers held power, deep strength, and an indomitable will. He put out a hand, and spoke quietly. "Miss Monroe? Honoured to make your acquaintance."

Ororo couldn't remember replying. All she ever recalled afterward was the rush of feeling that ran through her when their hands touched. They simply stood, staring at each other, for a time.

Hermione looked from Sirius to Storm and back again, smiled quietly to herself, and left them alone. As she rejoined the group, Rogue asked, "What's going on there?"

"Chemistry," Hermione replied. Rogue's eyebrows rose, but she said nothing.

Suddenly, Ginny shouted, and they all turned to see Harry standing by the desk. Ginny flew to him, and he opened his arms to her in a glad embrace. Ginny kissed Harry ardently, then leaned back from him. "Ugh! You reek of that woman!"

Harry gave a short laugh. "I probably do! She was all over me like...like a Devil's Snare!"

That comment caused general laughter. Sirius, with Storm close beside him, pushed through the crowd. "Harry? You held Narcissa off? I think that puts you in a class of one!"

"Does it? How come everyone knows what I've been doing, or not doing?" asked Harry. Without waiting for an answer, he cried, "Storm! You're here!"

"Why, yes I am! You always were perceptive, Hawk." Grinning, she reached out and hugged him. He held her tightly for a moment, then asked, "Does that mean the rest of the X-Men are here, too?"

"Yes. We're trying to find a way into this place."

"Why?" Harry wanted to know. Storm paused a minute to collect her thoughts, then explained what was happening. She told them about Voldemort's quest for the Talisman of Life Unending, his discovery that the 'deadly light' blocking access to the Talisman was gamma radiation, and his subsequent kidnapping of the Muggle world's foremost expert on the lethal rays. Ororo went on to explain how Dumbledore had consulted Xavier about the kidnapped scientist, and the resulting identification of Dr. Banner and his powerful, destructive alter ego, the Hulk.

"So," Storm concluded, "the Professor sent us over to help out in case the Hulk broke loose. But then it turned out that there were a lot more of these Death Eaters than we first thought, and trolls, as well. So Cyclops decided we had to get involved. Kind of like Harry would have done." Ororo smiled significantly at Harry, recalling his reply to Scott in the aftermath of the battle at the shopping mall near Xavier's.

"So, what you're saying," Ron summarised, "is that we've got Voldemort's lot surrounded?"

"Goddess! You're right, Hunter!" Storm's eyes widened, then she spoke into her communicator. "Storm to Cyclops-What's your situation?"

"We've just found another way into the Keep. The wizards are cooking up an illusion to make them think we're still out here while we blindside the bad guys. What about you?"

"I'm in a tower. Cyclops, the kids are here!"

"What, all of them?"

"Ours and the wizards, both. Hunter thinks we can do a pincer movement."

"I see. I think it'd be better if you all stayed put until we've cleaned house down here."

Harry had been listening in, now he interrupted. "Hawk to Cyclops-Scott, we're not going to have a row about this, are we? You, me and Rogue?"

There was a moment's silence, then Scott's rueful voice came back. "I'm outnumbered here, aren't I?"

"Damn straight, Cyke!" This was Wolverine. "'Cause I'm backin' the kids, too!"

"OK. Hawk, Rogue, the ambush is in the Great Hall. You'd better work your way down there quietly. When you're in position, let me know. Radio silence until then. Cyclops out."

"Right!" Harry said. "First things first. We have to see what's beyond that trapdoor."

"That's my job," said Ariel. "Be right back, guys."

Sirius watched, amazed, as Ariel stepped onto the trapdoor and slowly sank through it. For a few minutes, they all held their breath, then Rogue's keen ears caught a man's voice shouting, "_Stupefy!_", a surprised yelp from Ariel, a groan and the sound of a falling body.

"Trouble!" Rogue snapped. Peter, still in his armoured form, stamped once on the trapdoor, which flew into splinters, then charged down the stairway below it. Rogue and Harry were a breath behind, the others jostling to follow.

At the bottom of the stairs, a shaken-looking Ariel was standing over the inert body of a wizard. Peter dashed to her, resumed his human form, and swept her into his arms. "Katya, are you OK? What happened?"

"I'm fine, Peter. I don't know why, though. I was coming down the stairs, when this guy suddenly jumped out of the shadows and cast that stunning spell at me. But I was phased at the time. All I felt was like a static shock, then he just...keeled over!"

"Now that _is_ interesting," remarked Hermione. "I know you disrupt electronics when you're phased, Kitty. Perhaps you do the same to some spells. You were lucky this time, but I wouldn't like to try to guess what would happen with other spells or curses. I'd be careful if I were you."

Sirius approached the stunned wizard and picked up his wand. "Voldemort took mine," he noted, "but this one might do for now." Testing the wand, he applied a binding charm to the unconscious man.

"OK," said Harry, "there are probably more guards. Wolfsbane, you scout ahead. The rest of us had better stick together."

Once again, Sirius was surprised as the little Scots girl smoothly transformed into a red wolf and padded ahead. He caught Harry's eye; his godson grinned at him. "You get used to it after a while," Harry remarked. "Wolfsbane could do with some help, though. Are you up to being Snuffles for a bit, Sirius?"

"Good thought," said Sirius. "Why didn't I have it?"

"Well," said Harry kindly, "you are getting on a bit, you know."

Sirius turned to Ororo for support. "This is the respect I get?"

She grinned at him. "That's our Hawk for you. You should hear how he back-talks me."

"Cheeky lad! I'll have to have a word with him." With a stern look for his godson, Sirius transformed into his Animagus form, wagged his tail at Harry, and loped off after Wolfsbane. She turned as he caught up with her, and gave him an exploratory sniff. Satisfied, she trotted alongside him.

They ventured farther into the Keep. As they did so, they began to encounter unshuttered windows, and the rooms became larger. There were a great many scents, but nothing close or urgent. Then, in a wide corridor that stretched on for some distance, they found a powerful, threatening scent that sent them dashing back to the pack.

The two shapeshifters resumed their human forms as they came up on Harry and Rogue. "There's something nasty down there," Rahne warned them.

"Troll," said Sirius. "Maybe more than one."

"Holy Mother of Kazan!" muttered Peter, before he changed to Colossus. "I've done this before, guys. Stay back."

Colossus took the lead, moving forward noiselessly. Sure enough, a panel in the wall opened, and two trolls spilled out into the corridor. Colossus went in fast. His last fight against a troll had been long and drawn out, but Peter had learned from it. Ducking under a swinging club, he drove his steel fist with all his power into the troll's gut. The creature doubled over without a sound, and Colossus finished the job with a chop to the neck.

The other troll had reacted faster than expected, and its stone hammer crashed into Colossus' forehead. The blow didn't hurt the big X-Man, but it caught him off-balance and sent him sprawling to the floor. The troll roared and raised its hammer again. Harry started forward, but then heard Sam yell, "Comin' through!"

Harry leapt to one side as Cannonball rocketed down the corridor and struck the troll full in the midsection. Cannonball was pretty much an irresistible force, but the troll was far from an immovable object. The two flew the length of the corridor to crash into the stone wall at the end. The troll's eyes rolled up in its head and it slumped to the floor, blood trickling from the corner of its mouth.

"Now _that'll_ ruin your whole day," commented Alison.

"Aye," replied Seamus, "an' if Sam'd hit the thing lower down, he'd have ruined its night as well!"

"You've got an evil mind, lover mine."

"Sure and I didn't hear you complainin' last night, sweetheart."

Sunspot and Colossus had managed to untangle a struggling Cannonball from a mass of inert troll limbs by now, and Hawk and Rogue led the party on. The corridor ended in a T-junction. To one side, a flight of stairs led up; on the other side were stairs down. "We're heading for the Hall," said Harry, "so we go down, I think."

The stairs led to a large, rectangular room. As they entered it, everyone felt a sudden chill, which was immediately explained by the dozen black-robed figures that melted out of the shadows with chilling shrieks.

The members of Dumbledore's Army reacted as one. Wailing, the Dementors fled before a herd of silvery animals led by Harry's stag. "Impressive!" murmured Sirius to Storm, then noticed she was gazing entranced at the Patronus spirits. "Interesting, aren't they?" he inquired.

She turned to him, her dark eyes alight with a kind of inner joy. "It's more than that, Sirius! My mutation makes me sensitive to energy-patterns; it's how I manipulate weather. I can _see_ or _feel_ energy. These Patronus creatures are produced by positive psychic energy. I can feel the happiness--the joy--that makes them manifest. It's beautiful!"

Sirius looked at her, then heard himself saying, "So are you, Ororo." She shrugged the words off and turned away, but he reached out and took her chin in his strong fingers, making her look into his face.

"What?" he asked. "Has no one ever told you that before?"

"Yes," she breathed, "lots of people. But they didn't mean it the way you do."

For a moment, they gazed into each other's eyes, exploring what was happening between them, then Sirius sighed, "This is not the moment." Storm smiled with reluctant agreement. "Later," she promised him.

It had taken some time for the united efforts of the wizards to create a self-sustaining illusion, but the time had been well spent. Anyone looking out of the windows would have seen the attacking force apparently milling around, talking among themselves and reconnoitering. Meanwhile, the Phoenix team and their Mutant allies slipped into the secret passage.

It quickly became clear that the passage was part of a network stretching throughout the ancient fortress. By means of the compasses every X-Man carried and the enhanced senses of the three feral Mutants plus Remus and Tonks, who had shapeshifted into a hound, the force was able to make its way to the level of the Great Hall. There they found a fairly wide passage, which seemed to run in a circle, with doors spaced at regular intervals.

"Unless my calculations are completely wrong," mused Beast, "we should be level with the Hall now."

"I don't know if you noticed, Hank," said Remus, "but there were doors all round the Hall, leading to rooms off it, I suppose."

"Well, in that case," decided Moody, "these doors will probably take us into those rooms. Just like old Snakeface to have a back door out of every room."

"Right!" said Shacklebolt. "We spread ourselves along here, one or two of us in the various rooms. Then we wait for the youngsters to get in position. Cyclops, can you ask them to find somewhere high up? If they can attack from above, it'll have the enemy milling around. Then we can hit them from as many sides at once as we can manage."

"OK, give me a minute. Beast said there was a gallery above the Hall with no one on it."

Cyclops moved off a ways to speak into his communicator. When he returned, he said, "Seems they're heading for the gallery. That force has two of our most powerful elemental Mutants, Storm and Iceman. There's also Sunfire, Psyche and Dazzler, who can strike from a distance. Add to them Charm, Hawk, Hunter, seven other young wizards and one more adult wizard, and you have quite an artillery squad."

"Who's the other adult wizard?" asked Arthur.

"Some guy they found in the Labyrinth named Black. He's Harry's godfather, I gather."

"That's impossible!" said Arthur. "Sirius Black is dead!"

"Did you see the body?" asked Logan.

"Well, no but--"

"No buts, Mr. Weasley. Never count a human dead till you've seen the body," advised Wolverine, who added, "And even then, you can make a mistake. If Storm and Hawk say they've got this Sirius guy with them, then they've got him."

"That's not the point right now!" Cyclops interrupted. "What we need to do once we have the hostiles off balance is to get our close fighters in. That's you, Wolverine, Beast, Nightcrawler and any of you wizards who are good at close combat. Banshee, Polaris, you need to head up to the gallery and help Sunfire and Storm get Colossus, Sunspot and Wolfsbane into the mix-preferably right in the center. Then you four stay airborne and do what damage you can."

Cyclops stopped to consult the senior Auror. "Is that OK with you, Kingsley?"

"It's a sound plan, Scott. You're quite good at this."

"Thanks, but I do have this tendency to take charge."

"Don't worry about it. You're getting me in practice for when young Potter becomes an Auror."

Cyclops laughed. "You'll have your hands full with Hawk, that's for sure."

The group began to spread out, entering various rooms. Snape, Moody and Wolverine chose a door at random, and Logan led the way in, only to meet a figure apparently waiting for them.

It was a small, slightly built, Asian woman with oddly blank eyes. She smiled cruelly at Wolverine and raised an elegant hand. From her fingertips sprang long, slender, curved claws. Wolverine dropped into a fighting crouch, extending his own claws. "I thought I killed you, bitch! I'm gonna make sure of it, this time!" he vowed.

The woman looked puzzled for a moment, then her outline flowed and changed. Suddenly, Wolverine was faced with a nine-foot tall figure, manlike, but covered in white fur. Its face was at once human and bestial, and it opened a fang-filled mouth to howl, "_WEN-DI-GO!_"

Wolverine's jaw dropped. "What the...?"

Snape stepped forward. "_Riddikulus!_" he barked.

The creature faced Snape, and it's fur became bright sugar pink. It wore a sash that read _Welcome to Disney Land_! The thing looked puzzled for a moment. "Wen-di-go?" it asked. Then it vanished.

"What--what was that?" Wolverine wheezed.

"That was a Boggart," explained Moody. "It's a creature that protects itself by assuming the form of your worst fears. I take it you were supposed to be scared of at least one of those apparitions?"

Wolverine grunted. "They both gave me close runs for it. The first was Lady Deathstrike, another Weapon X graduate. The second was the Wendigo. I think I've fought him more than once, but I'm not sure."

"They didn't seem to bother you much," remarked Snape.

"Nah," Wolverine replied. "One of the kids- Psyche-does that riff a lot. She can pull your worst fear or your greatest desire right out of your head and show it to you. A few go-rounds with her in the Danger Room, and you're toughened up. Besides, all that happens when I get scared is that I fight harder. Fear can make me go berserk," he admitted.

Moody had tiptoed over to the door, and inched it open. Now he closed it again and came back. "Nothing's happening yet," he reported. "How will we know when it's time?"

"Oh, I think we'll know, Moody," said Snape. "Mr Potter has a way of getting everyone's attention."

A few minutes later, all Hell broke loose on the other side of the door.

Rogue was not as seasoned as Wolverine. Turning a corner in the corridor, she came face to face with the last person she expected to see.

The man was tall and powerfully built. His body belied the age-lined but still handsome face that peered out from the bizarre-looking metal helmet. He wore tight, red clothes and a thick, purple cloak.

He bore down on Rogue menacingly. "What, child? Did you think you could escape me forever?" he asked. His English was fluent, but heavily accented. "I am your destiny, and there is nothing poor, soft-hearted Charles can do to prevent it."

Rogue shrank back, _No! Not again! Never again!_ She steeled herself, lifting her chin defiantly.

The man smiled fondly. "You have courage, girl. Charles is a good judge of character."

Despite her brave façade, Marie felt her stomach knot. Then she heard Ron behind her shouting, "_Riddikulus!_"

A suddenly oversized helmet slipped over the man's eyes, and he tripped on the cape that was now far too long. He vanished before he hit the floor. Marie shrank into Ron's arms and squeezed him tight, shuddering. "Jeez, Ron, how did you do that? That was awesome."

Ron, red in the face with embarrassment, nevertheless returned the hug. "Who was that?"

"Magneto, my worst nightmare." Rogue frowned. "Yet it wasn't really him."

Ron said gently, "We call those things _Boggarts_. They use your own fear against you. That one's gone now."

By this time the others had come up. "Put him down, Marie," said Hermione dryly. "You don't know where he's been!"

Bob wondered, "Are you gonna let go of my girl, Hunter, or do I have to grab yours?"

Ron looked at Rogue. "We'd better break it up, Marie. It's not safe to grab Hermione, and Bob looks so much better with his head attached."

"Oi!" said Hermione. "What am I, a praying mantis?"

"All women are, under the skin," supplied Sirius, smiling at Storm's consternation.

"_Now_ you tell me," moaned Harry, while neatly sidestepping Ginny's jab toward his ribs.

Ron handed Marie off to Bob with a grin. "Here you go, mate, I've already got all the woman I can handle."

Marie hugged Bobby, and kissed him, but then couldn't help teasing Hermione. "Say, Charm, any chance I could have Ron when you're done with him? He's real huggable and reassuring..."

"No chance! This one's a keeper," stated Hermione firmly, taking hold of Ron's arm. "But I might let you borrow him if things get desperate."

"Bloody Hell!" Ron groaned. "Harry, mate, any chance of going gay?"

"I'm considering it," Harry huffed.

"I doubt that!" countered Ginny. "You're far too keen on my curvy bits--definitely a boob man, this one."

"Is there anything else you need to tell _everyone_ about me?" Harry shot back.

"Well, I can't say you're a great lover, as we haven't done that, but you are awfully good at--"

"Ginny!" Harry cried desperately.

"Kissing. I was going to say kissing," Ginny said innocently. Then her eyes narrowed. "Which reminds me--What were you up to with Malfoy's _mother_? Ewww, I mean, really, Harry!"

"Do they _ever _let up?" Sirius asked Storm.

"No. They still need time-outs. Hawk," she said loudly, "we should be moving on."

"Righto!"

They found the gallery soon enough, noting that the Death Eater force was still waiting, rather nervously, in the Hall. Silently, they spread out along the gallery, choosing strategic points from which to strike.

Cyclops' voice sounded in Harry's ear. "Hawk, we're in position down here. Whenever you're ready."

"Acknowledged. Stand by," replied Harry.

Moments later, Harry heard Rogue say, "Rogue to Hawk-We're in position. Ready to go on your mark."

Harry turned to Ginny. "You ready, love?"

"I will be once you've kissed me!"

He did that, and she slipped into the cover of a nearby pillar, wand gripped tightly in her hand, the light of battle already in her eyes. Harry felt himself grinning, then the increasingly familiar icy calm settled over him. "Hawk to Cyclops-The fun's about to start!"

Harry drew his wand, and stepped up to the rail. "_NOW!_" he bellowed.

**Chapter 11: Confrontation and Cataclysm**

Shiro Yoshida, like Alison Blair, was a novice X-Man. Unlike Dazzler, Sunfire had been trained from birth in the Way of the Warrior. As a child, Shiro learned martial arts and the code of the samurai. When his mutant powers appeared, he accepted his differences with the stoicism imparted by that philosophy. By fortunate coincidence, his cousin, the Lady Mariko Yoshida, had a _gaijin_ lover known as the Wolverine. Lady Mariko entrusted her young cousin to Wolverine at Xavier's, where Shiro's abilities could be put to honourable use.

Sunfire had known the three English wizards during their time at Xavier's, and had been impressed by them. They had courage, skill and loyalty. Hawk-san, in particular, seemed to understand the full meaning of honour. Shiro admired the new British friends he had made as well.

He had been pleased to come on this mission, but until now had had little to do. His first encounter in the Labyrinth had been with some silver-haired female creatures that attempted clumsily to seduce him. Shiro was no stranger to the pleasures of the pillow (a fact his friends at Xavier's would have been surprised to learn) but had instinctively distrusted the apparitions. A single fire-bolt had been sufficient to send them fleeing in the form of strange avians. Disposing of the giant earthworm threatening Ariel and Firebird had also been simple.

So, when Hawk gave the signal to attack, Sunfire was determined to bear his full part of this mission. He concentrated on a group of hostiles standing close to the head of the stairway. Aiming his plasma bolt at the floor, Sunfire sent some of the enemies plunging headlong down the stairs while razor-sharp stone splinters sliced into others. Those closest to Sunfire were seared by the heat of the blast; their robes burst into flame and their wands turned to ash. Shiro paused to see where he should attack next.

He saw Iceman, who was focusing on wizards nearest the dais with the throne-like chair on it. The wizards there found their feet frozen to the floor and their wands coated with thick layers of ice.

While the men fought with fire and ice, the women used their powers over mind and emotions. Psyche struck out at those she could _reach _the most easily; several Death Eaters began to scream at visions none of the others could see, panicking and striking out blindly at invisible spectres born from their imaginations. Meanwhile, projecting a display of light so intense and beautiful that her victims' senses were overloaded, Dazzler transfixed a group of enemies. Storm confused others with a ball of lightning that floated around the hall, imparting powerful static shocks to those whose attention was elsewhere.

The smell of magic was thick in the air. Wizards hurled a barrage of curses and hexes, adding to the pandemonium that had broken out in the hall below them. For a few moments, the Death Eaters milled in disarray, until they realised they were being attacked from above. Shields began to spring up, and counter curses were launched. None of the Death Eaters noticed that several doors around the hall had opened silently.

Cyclops waited until almost all the enemy wizards were looking upwards, then spoke sharply into his communicator, "Hit them!"

Watching from the balcony, Harry saw the familiar scarlet blast of Cyclops' eye-beams cut through the crowd; at the same time, dark wizards began to stagger and fall, trying to protect their ears from Banshee's scream. Other powers were at work that Harry didn't recognise-bolts of white energy with a similar effect to Cyclops' beams, for one. He also saw wizards encased in a blue aura picked up and thrown across the hall. More spells and curses took their toll.

By this time, Voldemort's troops were in total disorder. Before they could recover, a number of newcomers darted into the fray to close with the enemy. Harry recognised Bill, Fred, and George Weasley. The slim fighter beside Bill turned out to be Tonks. Nightcrawler teleported into the thick of the fight, and the Beast leaped from wall to wall, effortlessly dodging spells. Two other men in Aurors' robes also joined in. Harry was most astonished by a tight flying wedge of three figures that advanced relentlessly. At the apex was Wolverine, followed closely by Mad-Eye Moody and- _Professor Snape?_

While Harry kept on hurling spells, two allies rose up from the hall to the gallery. One was the familiar form of Banshee; the other was a woman he did not know-a woman with green hair.

Acting on Banshee's instructions, Sunfire scooped up Wolfsbane, who had assumed her semi-human form. Storm, along with Banshee, grabbed Sunspot under the arms. The two young X-Men were delivered into the melee, and landed fighting. In his human form, Peter was too heavy to be lifted, but the weight of organic-steel Colossus was meaningless to the magnetic powers of Polaris! She dropped him into the centre of the fight from a height of ten feet. Colossus landed with a thud, and began laying about him with punches that sent men flying yards.

By now, fully half of the Death Eaters were out of action, but the rest rallied. They fought to capture, preserving the option to kill slowly later.

Colossus still advanced like a juggernaut, untouchable by spells, but one of the Aurors and George Weasley had been petrified. Wolfsbane had narrowly dodged a fireball and Sunspot had been stunned. Beast was helping another Auror defend his fallen comrade, while Bill, Tonks and Fred had drawn into a circle around George. Wolverine, with Snape and Moody, was trying to break through to where Roberto lay.

Harry swore. The melee was too thick for him to fire off spells without hitting one of his comrades. He had to get down there, but Apparating into that crowd was asking for trouble.

"Iceman!" Harry called, waving frantically. "There are more of us who need to get into it."

"On it, Hawk!"

Iceman placed his hands on the rail, and a steep slide formed, leading down into the hall. Harry leapt onto it, using his skateboarding skills to stay upright as he shot along.

"Geronimo!" yelled Ginny, sliding after him with fine standing balance. A second behind them, Ron and Hermione came down, sliding on their bottoms, hand in hand.

"Thank Merlin I'm _not_ wearing that thong!" Hermione gasped, as she hit the bottom, did a forward roll and came up on her feet, launching a fireball from her wand seconds later.

Seamus and Alison followed, Seamus howling an old Irish war cry and Alison demonstrating an amazing range of obscenities and insults! Neville descended last, face intent, managing to volley spells even as he slid.

This was--though no one realised it just then--the turning point. Hermione covered Ron's back as he used strength, size and skill to bull through to his brothers. Hermione slipped into the circle to restore George.

"Right!" bellowed Ron. "Let's show them how we Weasleys do it!"

"I'm not a Weasley!" yelled Hermione.

"You will be!" vowed Ron, and Hermione's heart soared as she followed her man into battle.

Harry and Ginny arrived beside Sunspot at the same time as Wolverine's group. "Howdy, Hawk," Logan greeted him nonchalantly. "How's it goin'?"

"Keeping busy," quipped Harry, stooping over Roberto to say, "_Ennervate!_"

As Harry helped Sunspot to his feet, Logan looked Ginny up and down. "So you're the famous Ginny, eh? I'll say one thing for Hawk, he knows how to pick his women."

"Excuse me?" Ginny protested. "_I_ picked _him_!" Wolverine gave a short bark of laughter.

Moody shook his head. "You're as reckless as ever, Potter! Your father was just the same."

"You knew him?"

"By reputation only, but I've heard the stories."

"'Scuse me," said Wolverine, "but we got a scrap goin' on here."

"Back to work, then, lady and gentlemen," said Snape, who leaned close to Harry. "Do try not to get killed, Mr Potter," urged Snape. "I have so few opponents worthy of my steel, I should hate to lose one."

Harry smiled wryly, and they all got to work.

From the gallery, Sirius watched the fight progress. The Death Eaters were trapped in the hall. Every attempt to reach the door drew a devastating response from Sunfire. Shortly after that, Colossus took the stair landing, imposing an immovable, invulnerable bulwark. Sirius turned his attention to Harry and his friends.

Ron and Hermione worked as a team, silently anticipating each other's moves. Ron used his fists and feet as much as he used his wand; he was strong as a bear and far more skilled in spells than his teachers would have credited. Hermione had all the magical expertise Sirius expected, but also demonstrated an agility and skill in unarmed combat that was surprising.

Seamus and Dazzler also worked in tandem. Alison hurled intense sparks of white light into the faces of foes, blinding and disorienting them, enabling Seamus to take ruthless advantage of every lapse. Neville had joined up with the Aurors and Beast. After restoring the petrified man, he fought coolly and steadily.

Ginny and the lad called Sunspot-now transfigured into a black silhouette--followed Harry. Both were intense, ferocious, but Harry himself was astonishing. His movements _flowed_, switching from punches and karate kicks to spell casting and back again without pause or hesitation.

Sirius was awed and troubled: What would James and Lily think of the fighting machine their son had become? _They'd be proud of his skills and courage, _Sirius decided, _but Lily would not have wanted her boy to be a warrior. _James might not have minded so much; he'd been a scrapper himself. But there was a relentless, lethal precision to Harry's fighting style that would have worried James Potter-maybe even scared him a little.

Sirius' reflections were interrupted by a number of loud _booms_. The final reserve of Death Eaters had decided to attack the gallery. It was for precisely this reason that Sirius had not followed the others. He spun to take down two of the wizards. He felt another behind him and turned again-too late!

_"Expelliarmus!"_ shouted Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius' wand flew from his hand, and the woman gave a mad whoop. "Oh, this is too delightful! I get to kill you again, cousin, and properly this time! _Avada..._"

In mid-curse, Bellatrix's eyes rolled up in her head and she sank to the ground. Rogue released her hold on the woman, picked up her wand, and applied a binding charm. Sirius scooped up his wand, peering hard at Marie. The American girl's eyes were her own, rather than Bellatrix's. Sirius released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Rogue flashed him a smile, then darted past Sirius, shouting "_Stupefy!_" and sending her wizard victim to the floor. Sirius followed her.

The affray was sharp and quick. Iceman froze three wizards in their tracks--Bobby was through pulling punches with this scum! Psyche, still concentrating on the fracas below, had fallen victim to a stun spell. Parvati was down, as well.

In a few moments of frantic fighting Sirius, Rogue, Iceman, Lavender, Padma and Luna cleared the gallery, aided by Storm, who appeared out of nowhere to hover protectively over them hurling an icy wind into the faces of the opposition. Then a wizard leaped out of the shadows, clamped an arm firmly around Ariel's neck and pressed his wand to her throat. "Surrender!" he snarled, eyes flickering wildly from face to face of the encircling throng, "unless you want to hear this one's death cry!"

"Bite me!" snapped Kitty, who simply stepped out of his grasp, phasing through the arm that held her. As he stared stupidly, she pivoted and kicked him, hard, in the groin-then jumped back to avoid the splatter as he fell to his knees, retching.

"_Ouch!_" muttered Sirius. "Was that really necessary?"

"He got off easy," Ariel asserted, swiping her hands with satisfaction. "You don't want to know what Petey or Harry would do to that guy if they knew he'd threatened me!"

Around the hall, there were a few duels still raging. Other wizards set about securing the fallen and reviving allies. Nothing was happening near Sirius, so he took the opportunity to speak quietly to Rogue, asking, "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Back last spring, I didn't feel able to take on wizard stuff, but when I used Harry's power earlier today, it sort of fell into place. Anyway, compared to him, this Bellatrix was a piece of cake. I just had to feed her a couple of kinky fantasies, and she was done.

"The magic is mostly gone now. I can't do spells anymore," Rogue realised. "But people sort of leave things behind in me. My senses have been sharper since I absorbed Wolverine's power. Harry left a lot of stuff; he's such a strong personality." She looked at Sirius with new appreciation. "I'm always going to feel kinda special about you, and Ron and Hermione, and Ginny, too. So it's possible that Harry and Bellatrix lent me a bit of their magic. Not much, but some. Could come in handy one day."

Sirius was perplexed. "Bellatrix is one of Voldemort's favourites. There are rumours that she's his lover. I'd have thought she'd be quite formidable."

Marie shook her head. "Guys like Voldemort are too paranoid to surround themselves with strong-willed lieutenants; Professor X told us that. As for that Bellatrix broad being his lover- please, don't go there!" Rogue's eyes turned inward a moment, then she said, "Whoa! That's just _wrong! _The sooner that bitch is outta my head, the better!"

A shout from below caught their attention. The last Death Eater was taunting Ron. The infuriated Ron didn't mess about; he landed a solid roundhouse left that spun his heckler in a complete circle before he slumped to the floor.

For a moment, there was silence. Everyone looked around. Then there was a storm of cheering. Sirius was about to join in, when Marie suddenly sagged against him. Instinctively, he put an arm around her and her head drooped against his shoulder. She gasped, and then exhaled heavily. "That's that, she's gone!" Rogue breathed. "I threw out the last of Bellatrix, thank God!" Marie smiled, and shifted away from Sirius. "Thanks. I'm all right. Let's get down there."

They had to wait until Iceman repaired his slide, which had melted a little. Everyone on the balcony slid down to the hall. Sirius managed to land neatly, and jumped up to find himself being roughly hugged, first by Harry, then by an exultant Remus.

Harry turned with Ginny once again firmly tucked under his arm to see Cyclops striding towards him, a wide grin of greeting on his face. That, in itself, was not strange; after they'd clashed a bit at Xavier's, Harry and Scott had discovered they had much in common. What made Harry stare was the small figure who clung to Scott as closely as Ginny did to him. _That's Fleur Delacour!_ _Isn't she seeing Bill Weasley?_

Harry spotted Bill, who was wrapped up with Tonks. _Merlin! A lot's_ _happened in a few days! _thought Harry. Then Scott was shaking his hand and thumping his back. "Good work, Hawk!" Scott said.

Fleur kissed Harry warmly on both cheeks. "'Arry! Eet is good to see you, _mon ami. _But you 'ave become the man now, _n'est-ce pas_? An' 'oo ees thees _belle petite_? Èlas! Eet seems I am too late; your 'eart 'as been seized already."

"'fraid so, Fleur. This is Ginny Weasley, and she has definitely got a grip on my heart-among other things."

"D'you mind!" Ginny hissed in mock outrage. To Fleur she said, "Ignore him. He's got a one-track mind."

"But of course. Do not all men?"

"Damn!" said Scott, "They've found us out, Harry."

"Too right!"

"Ah, but per'aps we weel forgive you, eef you are good to us," Fleur suggested, nestling close to Scott again.

Severus Snape snorted. He had watched this exchange with growing disdain, finally deciding to undertake the more congenial task of congratulating Moody and Logan. Before he could, he heard a familiar voice yell, "_Professor Snape!_"

Alarmed, he found a tall, slender woman launching herself at him. Strong, young arms wrapped around his neck, and for the first time in years, Snape found himself being warmly kissed on one lean cheek. He stood paralysed with indecision until Wolverine's wry voice rang in his ears. "She ain't gonna let go 'till you hug her back, Severus. You might as well get it over with."

His sallow cheeks hot, Snape awkwardly gripped and released Marie, stepping back with alacrity. "Miss D'Ancanto," he began. She glared at him. He sighed. "Marie, this is hardly proper behaviour!"

"Oh?" Marie replied impishly. "Then how come everyone else is doing it? C'mon, Professor, I've missed you! Can't a girl say hi? Besides," she stepped closer and spoke confidentially, "your Skinseal Potion's done so much for my love life, I owe you one, Professor."

Snape shook his head. "I despair, I truly do. What has become of decorum, of dignity, of the manners proper to young ladies, Moody?"

Moody grunted. "She _is_ only a Colonial, Severus."

"And a rebel at that," added Wolverine.

"Oh, y'all are such a bunch of old grouches," Rogue declared, then hugged Logan, who was one of her favourite people. Wolverine introduced her to Moody, she shook his hand politely, then leaned forward and planted a mischievous kiss on his leathery cheek--"Just so you don't feel left out!"

Moody said smoothly, "Gratefully accepted. Only blows refused from a pretty thing like you, girl."

Remus introduced Sirius to Beast and Nightcrawler, the two X-Men with whom he'd become particular friends. Shacklebolt broke in to say, "Welcome back! Damn, I'm glad to see you, Sirius. Never could accept that Veil thing as the end of you. And now, after this fight, we should be able to clear your name, once and for all."

_Freedom. Can it really be mine at last? And what of this beautiful, sexy, silvery woman coming toward me? Could she be mine, too?_ Sirius didn't know if this was dream or reality until a single, lingering kiss from Ororo convinced him there was a flesh and blood woman in his arms. They stepped back from each other in wonder, oblivious to everything else.

Harry watched that embrace unfold. For the briefest moment, he felt a surge of irrational jealousy: How dare Ororo steal Sirius from him? For that matter, how dare Sirius steal his friend Ororo? The surge passed, leaving a wake of chagrin. _Harry, you're being a prat!_ _If anyone deserves a little happiness, it's Sirius._ _And how could he possibly do better than Ororo?_

Harry shook himself mentally. He said in a light-hearted voice, "Anything I should know about?"

"Ah!" said Sirius. "Thought you already knew about men and women. Should we have a little talk?"

"It's no use," Harry declined. "There's no explaining it." He smiled at Ginny. "What this wonderful girl sees in me is a total mystery."

Harry reached out and grasped Sirius' shoulder. "I'm glad you're happy, Sirius. Merlin knows you've earned it." Then he turned and pulled Storm close. "I'm happy for you too, Ororo."

Eyes shining, Storm held him tight for a moment. "Thank you, Harry."

Around them, there were more congratulations and introductions. Fleur bustled about treating minor injuries, while the Aurors made sure that the Death Eaters were all secured.

It was Arthur Weasley who stated the obvious. "Wait a moment! Where's You-Know-Who? And this Dr Banner?"

Shacklebolt and Cyclops took charge-though they made a show of consulting Harry and Rogue-and organised a search. The shadowed space behind the dais proved to conceal a door leading into a room with two exits. One door led to a spiral staircase leading up; the other was blocked by a black, pulsing membrane resistant to both Mutant powers and spells.

Bill Weasley came forward to examine the membrane. "This is pretty potent stuff," he allowed, "but not as bad as the gate. Bear with me a minute."

He appeared to struggle with himself for a short while, then his body convulsed and he coughed out a single Word of Power. None of those around him them could make out what it had been. It had a harsh, thunderous sound, and it seemed to the listeners that the language belonged to a species whose vocal organs were _different_ from humans'. Bill relaxed into Tonks' solicitous arms as the membrane split, retracted toward its edges and vanished. The doorway opened onto another spiral staircase, but this one led down.

"For some reason," grumbled Harry, "these little spots of trouble I keep getting into are forever ending up underground."

"Or in a girls' loo," added Hermione.

"No kidding?" said Roberto curiously. "What's it like in there, Harry?"

"They write on the walls, same as we do," Harry revealed.

"OK, that's enough!" Scott interrupted. "There don't seem to be any guards at this end, but there'll probably be at least two at the bottom. It's dark down there, so Nightcrawler had better take point. Colossus, you back him up. Kingsley, which of your people should follow Peter?"

Shacklebolt said, "Moody and Tonks, you go with them. The rest of us will follow."

"Wolverine and I can take rearguard," Snape offered. Shacklebolt nodded his agreement.

Nightcrawler moved off. Instead of walking down the stairs, he scuttled, spider-like, along the wall, its rough stone providing ample grip for his remarkable fingers and toes. The darkness swallowed him almost at once, and Shacklebolt finally realised the aptness of his codename. Colossus followed a yard or so after, with Tonks and Moody sheltering from possible attack behind his massive, metal frame.

After a few moments with no alarm, Cyclops noted, "Clear so far. Shall we, Kingsley?"

"By all means. Harry, stick with me, son."

"Rogue, you're with me," said Cyclops.

They filed quietly down the stairs, pausing every so often. Cyclops called a halt with one hand held up in warning. A flurry of muffled sound drifted up the stairs. A moment later, Scott moved on.

It turned out that there had been six guards in a kind of antechamber at the foot of the stairs. There were still six guards, but they were now quite incapable of guarding! Tonks was binding the last one as the rest of the party came in.

A door at the other end of the room was slightly ajar, and through it came sounds none of them had expected to hear. To the X-Men, the sounds were familiar at once: the chatter of a printer, the chirps and warbles of advanced electronic equipment.

A high-pitched, cold voice demanded, "Well, slave? Are you close to accomplishing your task?" _Voldemort!_

The second voice was American, and spoke tonelessly, apathetically. "Within minutes, Master. I need to get an exact frequency match. I can't sustain the gamma-negative projector for long without more power and--"

"Silence! I tire of your Muggle babble. Make haste!"

"Oh, Bruce, what has he done to you?" sighed Beast.

"Imperious curse," Harry whispered through gritted teeth. "Voldemort loves that one!"

"Shh!" warned Polaris. "There's something..." She moved to the door, spreading her hands in front of her. "There's a magnetic field in there. It's very strong, very concentrated and localized."

"Of course!" Beast nodded. "That explains a good deal. Gamma radiation is lethal to all forms of life. By rights, the area for miles around this Keep should be a sterile desert, like the Forbidden Zone in Siberia. But a strong, local magnetic field would contain the radiation."

"Whatever, Hank," Cyclops said irritably. "We don't have time for a science class right now. Let's get in there."

They went in fast, without caution, spreading out quickly for a fight. This was no dungeon, but a natural cave, irregularly shaped and rough walled. Towards the back of the cave, stood an array of high-tech equipment and a generator. A slim, bespectacled Muggle in dirty clothes was working on the equipment. Beyond him rose a pulsing dome of intense green light, and in the centre of the dome hung what could only be the Talisman of Life Unending.

It appeared to be a large medallion of white metal. Around its circumference was the Orobouros-the serpent devouring its own tail. In the centre was the double ellipse, symbol of eternity.

Between the invading force and the Talisman stood the tall, gaunt figure of Lord Voldemort. He turned to face them with a sneer. "So you have overcome my minions. No matter, there are always more like them and they served the purpose of delaying you.

"You are come too late, fools! Within moments, my servant will break the barrier that keeps me from my destiny. I shall claim the Talisman for my own, shake off the shackles of mortality and time, and complete the purification of the Wizarding world. When all of you are dust, I shall endure, moulding the future in my true image!"

"I don't believe it," muttered Logan to Snape. "The dude is _monologuing! _Why do they always do that?"

Voldemort suddenly focused on Harry, and his red eyes flashed fire. "Potter! You survived? Unchanged? The noble Harry Potter left his godfather to die?"

"What makes you think that?" asked Sirius, stepping forward. Voldemort stared uncomprehendingly. Sirius offered him a grim smile. "My godson has more resources at his disposal than you realise."

For a moment only, Voldemort seemed stricken with doubt. Then he rallied, muttering the words, "That may be, but he can still die!" He jabbed his wand at Harry. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

But as the Dark Lord cast his curse, a huge figure darted in front of Harry. With a loud, metallic clang, the Death-curse bounced off Colossus' chest and struck the device Banner was working on. The machine exploded in a shower of sparks, and the unfortunate Muggle was flung several feet away.

Voldemort hissed, "Resources indeed, Potter! You have made yourself a golem? Begone, creature, I command you!"

"_Job tvo madje!"_ replied Peter crudely.

Voldemort gaped. "You speak, golem?"

"I'm not a golem!" growled Peter, taking a menacing step forward. "And I say, 'Kiss my shiny metal ass!'"

Voldemort stood seething until he threw back his head and _howled_ with frustrated rage. In the silence that followed his insane bellow, another voice called, "_Voldemort!_"

The dark wizard spun to see his erstwhile slave dragging himself upright. Banner's voice was thick, his face twisted with anger and pain. "You...you kidnapped me. You took away my will. You starved me, tortured me, made me work. Kept me here..."

With each phrase, Banner's voice deepened and strengthened. His body swelled and grew, his skin turned green, and suddenly Voldemort was facing _the Hulk_!

The jade-skinned giant boomed, "Red-Eye made Hulk slave. Hulk will smash!"

Voldemort hurled his death curse again, but the Hulk simply shrugged it off, growling, "Snake-face hurt Hulk, but Hulk is strongest one!" At that, Voldemort, shrieking imprecations, Disapparated with a thunderclap.

The Hulk roared in fury, snatched up the portable generator and heaved it towards Harry and his friends. Polaris managed to deflect the hurtling mass. Arthur Weasley sank the Hulk up to his thighs into the cave floor. The Hulk roared louder, and began to pound at the ground in front of him. The entire cave shook; rocks and dust fell down from the roof.

"That's not gonna hold him," yelled Cyclops. "Everybody out!"

They dashed to the door, only to find that the anteroom was blocked with debris. Cyclops turned to Shacklebolt. "Kingsley, you and your people can Apparate out of here. Go! We'll do what we can."

"Not a chance, Scott. Would _you_ leave _us_? Besides," Shacklebolt jerked his chin at Ginny, "not all of us can Apparate."

"Stand away, if you please!" shouted Sunfire. "I will clear a path." He raised his hands.

"Fire in the hole!" yelled Marie, and everyone backed off, Mutants dragging wizards out of harm's way. Sunfire's plasma bolts did not _melt _the rubble, they _vaporised_ it! Shiro was exerting his power to the full, and within seconds, the room was clear but the walls and floor glowed red hot. Sunfire dropped to his knees, flushed and sweating; he had overheated himself. Iceman cooled Sunfire with a touch, and then applied his power to the anteroom, making it safe to enter.

The Hulk was still pounding relentlessly at the stone that held him. Wizards at the front of the group were doing their best to shield everyone from falling stone.

"This whole place is comin' down," bellowed Logan. "Let's _move,_ people!"

Halfway up the spiral staircase, the roof finally gave way. Crouching under shields, Mutants and wizards surveyed the wreckage. The stairs leading upward were gone, but the room behind the throne was still there, hovering fifteen feet above them. The four flight-capable X-Men promptly soared up to it. Nightcrawler teleported, and Ariel ran up on the air itself.

"How am I going to...?" wondered Ginny until Colossus put a hand on her and Harry's shoulders. "Hawk, get up there and get ready to catch her."

Harry Apparated up to the ledge. Colossus stood with his back to it and laced his fingers in front of him, saying, "Come on, Firebird!" Ginny made a short run, put a foot in his linked hands, pushed off from his shoulders and sprang as he heaved. "Alley-_oop!_" Peter grunted. Harry caught Ginny at the top of her jump with a Hover Charm and brought her safely to the ledge.

The other wizards Apparated up to them. Far above, more of the roof gave way and a shaft of sunlight shone through. Roberto stepped into the light to become Sunspot. He took up a position beside Colossus, and the two of them began to toss the other X-Men up, to be deftly fielded by the wizards. After Colossus tossed Roberto toward Harry, Polaris lifted Colossus to the ledge.

They stood there, pleased to be reunited, until a violent tremor shook the ground, throwing them all off their feet. Ginny and Hermione went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Oof!" said Hermione. "Putting on some weight, dearie?"

"Cheeky mare!" replied Ginny without rancour, helping her friend up.

Ron looked at Harry, who lay sprawled across him. "Harry?"

"What?"

"When I said about going gay-I didn't _mean_ it!"

"Damn! Here I was about to try for a snog."

"Some other time."

"Enough jokes!" barked Shacklebolt. "We have to keep moving."

They dashed across the hall, avoiding the heaps of rubble and gaping cracks in the floor. The stairs led to a long corridor at the end of which the great door stood closed. In front of the doors, stood a wavering apparition of Bellatrix.

"You'll never escape," she mocked. "I sealed this door. You'll all be buried."

Cannonball streaked through the projection, which looked shocked, and crashed into the door, ripping it from its hinges.

They ran through the courtyard and outer ward, out through the main gate, and into the woods, regrouping on the small rise where Fleur and Cyclops had stood that morning. Despite all that had happened, it was now just past noon. The weary combatants watched in silence as the subterranean pounding continued.

The tall tower wavered, then slowly toppled down. Massive walls split, cracked and fell. There was one final rumble, and the entire structure seemed to fold in on itself, dissolving in a cloud of dust. The ancient Keep of Salazar Slytherin was nothing more than a pile of dirt.

George Weasley broke the silence. "Well, that's that."

"No," said Kurt, "I think not."

From inside the rubble, something was struggling to escape. Then a shower of stone exploded upwards--along with a green form that landed just short of the tree line.

"_Bozhe moi_" breathed Peter.

The Hulk stared around him, not seeing the people gathered on the rise.

Cyclops exhaled heavily. "Now things get _really_ tough!" he said.

**Chapter 12: Lullaby in Green**

The Hulk peered about him, then roared, "Where are puny humans who try to bury Hulk? Hulk will find and smash!" He dove into the trees, and they could hear him blundering through the wood.

Cyclops grimaced. "If he finds us..."

"I can make that more difficult," said Storm. She kissed Sirius lightly, then sprang into the air, hovering a little above the trees. Slowly, the air below her seemed to thicken, and an opalescent mist formed between the trees. Once started, it spread quickly, covering the area as far as anyone could see. Storm settled back down. "That should keep him off us for a while."

"But it doesn't solve our problem," noted Shacklebolt. "Scott, I'm sorry. I'll admit, I thought you were exaggerating when you told us about this creature; I thought surely nothing could be as powerful as you claimed the Hulk was.

"It seems I was wrong. He survived the Killing Curse - it didn't even make him blink - and he broke open solid rock to free himself. He was buried under tons of fallen stone and came out without a mark on him. So, I have to ask: How do we fight this thing?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted. "I'm open to suggestions, Kingsley. And don't apologize; the Hulk is something you have to see to believe. I didn't realize what he was capable of until now. Of all of us, only Logan has encountered him before."

"Don't ask me," growled Logan. "I beat the Wendigo, but not the Hulk. We just gotta hope he gets tired, or calms down and changes back into Banner."

"_Pardonnez-moi,_" Fleur broke in, "but can this, this _change_, be made to 'appen sooner?"

"Yes, I suppose so," replied Scott. "If we could find a way to calm him, he'd transform."

"Not easy," Psyche revealed. "Back in the cave, I tried to project some soothing images to him, but his mind is so full of rage, all I could find were violent thoughts." She shuddered, and Roberto put his arms around her.

Fleur nodded. "Then 'e must be calmed from outside 'imself. Scott, my _grand-mere_ is a Veela. From 'er, I inherited certain talents. Eet is possible I can calm this 'Ulk, but I must see 'im to do so."

"Fleur, are you sure?" asked Scott anxiously. "The Hulk is dangerous. You could be hurt, even killed!"

Fleur put a hand to his cheek. "We are all in peril. So I take a leetle risk for ze good of all? I 'ave thees gift. I would be ashamed not to do all I could."

Scott stepped closer and spoke hoarsely, "I've only just found you, Fleur. I don't want to lose you."

She snuggled into his arms and spoke up into his face, "Zen you weel not. What 'arm can come when my brave warrior watches over me? Wiz you beside me, Scott, I cannot fail."

"I'm gonna barf," muttered Sam to Ron.

"You and me both, mate," agreed Ron. Then both of them fell silent under the withering glares of their girlfriends.

Moody said, "Scott, there's a clearing over there. If Miss Delacour needs to see the Hulk, is there any way we can get him to it?"

"I could lead him there," said Nightcrawler. "He's fast for his size, but he won't catch me."

"No good," Havok declared. "We don't want him barrelling in there fight-ready, or Fleur won't have a chance to do her stuff."

Tonks stepped forward, a pensive frown on her face. "How's this Hulk with animals?"

"I never heard he harmed one," replied Wolverine. "His beef is with people."

"Well, that settles it, then. Fleur, Scott, you get to the clearing. I'll lead him there if I can." Tonks turned, stretched up and kissed Bill lightly on the nose. "Back in a bit, love."

The young Auror moved off a little way, turned her back, and transformed with a shimmer into a beautiful fallow deer that darted off into the woods in the direction of the Hulk's noisy thrashing.

"OK," said Scott. "Fleur and I will go down to the clearing. The rest of you stay here and try to figure out what to do if we don't succeed."

The two started down the hill, hand in hand. Then Cyclops stopped and turned. The entire group was following them.

Before Scott could protest, Havok said, "What, bro? Did you think we were going to let you go down there without us?"

"We're in this together, Scott," affirmed Shacklebolt. "You lot dove in when we needed help, even against your Professor's orders, so we finish this as a team or not at all."

"Anyway," Harry said, as the group began moving again, "as far as Ron, Hermione and I are concerned, this is what we do."

"We've been doing it since our First Year," Ron confirmed.

"We have our own little motto about it," added Hermione.

"Don't tell me," said Lorna. "_All for one and one for all_?"

Hermione shook her head. "_Semper in excreta, solo profundem variat._" She smiled.

"Huh?" asked George.

Arthur translated, "_Always in the shit, only the depth varies._" He grinned, observing, "That could be the Weasley family motto, Hermione."

She shrugged. "It can do double duty. Harry's an honorary Weasley, and I'm going to be one by marriage, one of these days."

"Uh-oh. You're doomed, pal," said Bob to Ron.

Ron sighed. "'Fraid there's no help for it."

"Speaking of mottos," said Remus to his friends, "I think mine right now is _Meam transitam sursum, Caledonian._"

"What's that?" demanded Kurt.

"Latin for _Beam me up, Scotty_," said Beast, chuckling.

"Shh!" Scott held a finger to his lips. They had been moving into the forest as they spoke, and now the clearing came in sight. Storm's mist was contained under the trees, so the afternoon sunlight spilled into what was a pretty little dell, its lush, green grass spangled with daisies and buttercups.

"OK," Scott said, "the rest of you stay well back. If the Hulk sees a crowd, he'll think we're out to attack him. Fleur, honey, I'll be right behind you."

She nodded, inhaled, and threw her shoulders back before moving to a tree on the very edge of the clearing. Scott was close behind her.

A few moments later, the deer that was Tonks bounded gracefully into the clearing. Behind her came the huge figure of the Hulk, staring fascinated at the lovely creature. As he reached the centre of the dell, Fleur began to sing.

There were no words to her song. It was pure melody, soft, gentle and slightly plaintive. It called up images of repose, of the comfort of being securely loved. Fleur's song filled the dell, and the Hulk stopped in his tracks, head cocked, listening. Deer-Tonks slipped unnoticed back into the trees, to nuzzle Bill gently before changing back into her human form, and standing with an arm wrapped around his waist.

Dazzler had listened for a moment as Fleur's song began, then she started making rapid adjustments to the control unit on her wrist. Within moments, the sophisticated circuitry in her uniform had been programmed to match the frequency, pitch and rhythm of the song. Ali whispered to Seamus, "C'mon. I'm gonna help, and I want you with me."

"You'd have me there whether you wanted me or not, acushla," Seamus asserted. The teenagers crept forward, Seamus taking a position beside Cyclops, Dazzler moving next to Fleur. What followed was an unexpected blending of the two women's powers.

Dazzler, using Storm's mist as a screen, projected shimmering curtains of light around the dell. As the sonic generators in her uniform matched their output to Fleur's singing, the curtains flowed and changed. Delicate, pastel colours swirled in soothing, stately patterns.

The Hulk was entranced. He murmured to himself, his deep, guttural tones reaching Wolverine's keen ears. "Pretty music. Pretty lights. Hulk likes. Hulk stays here."

The green-skinned behemoth settled to the grass, yawned, and then slowly stretched out on the grass. He watched the lights, listened to the song, and then his eyelids began to droop. Fleur and Dazzler continued their display for a while longer. Within minutes, the Hulk was breathing deeply and evenly, sound asleep.

As quickly as the change had come, it reversed itself. The Hulk's body shrank, his skin lightened, and the figure sleeping on the grass became Dr Bruce Banner.

Fleur ended her song, and Dazzler stopped projecting. The two turned to each other and smiled. Scott thumped Seamus on the shoulder, and the two of them went forward to join the girls.

Seamus, bursting with pride, grabbed Ali and swung her round. They kissed with all the greedy passion of teenagers in love. Scott acted on instinct to gather Fleur into his arms, and he became lost in the incredible sweetness of her lips as she responded eagerly. For a long moment, nothing else mattered, until she released him, and he realised what he had done. "Fleur, I...didn't mean to, I--"

She held him tightly, speaking close to his face, so he could feel her sweet breath on his cheek. "_Tais-toi, cheri. _But of course you meant to, as did I. We weel speak more of thees, later, _mon amour_. But we weel not speak _too_ much, yes?"

Reluctantly, she turned her head to observe the man sleeping on the grass. "But now I must attend to poor Dr Banner. We must get 'im back to 'Ogwarts as soon as may be."

Fleur almost danced over to the prone figure. She saw Bill Weasley standing nearby, and paused a second to look at him. He grinned and gave her the thumbs-up. Fleur smiled, and blew him a kiss. After all, if he had not deserted her for the tomboy Tonks, she would not now have her handsome, brave Scott!

Banner lay in a deep sleep of exhaustion. Fleur judged that there was no need to sedate him. She went off in search of a blanket for the man who had been through so much.

Shacklebolt dispatched Tonks and the twins to sweep the area for any sign of Death Eater activity. "I'm probably being overly cautious," he told Scott, "but after all this, I don't want to stroll into an ambush."

Wolverine had been consulting his compass and sniffing the air. "Cyke, Shacklebolt--I make our original staging post about half a klick southwest of here. If Storm can get rid of this mist, we can be there in ten...twenty minutes."

Scott said, "Storm, can you get on the mist? Kingsley, I think you're right; there's no need to take unnecessary risks. Wolfsbane, will you scout ahead?"

Rahne nodded and moved to the edge of the dell, then turned to ask, "Are ye no' comin, Mr Black?"

Sirius turned to Ororo. "Go," she told him. "Wolves are pack animals, and Rahne likes having someone she can trust to run with. Besides, you're cute as Snuffles."

"Cute, indeed." He grinned at her. "I'll give you 'cute'!"

"Promises, promises," she returned. "Now go on, you. There's bound to be food at Hogwarts, and I'm starving."

Wolfsbane and Snuffles disappeared into the woods, followed by Wolverine. After a few moments with no alarm, Shacklebolt asked Polaris to alert the airborne wizards to the changed rendezvous point. "All right," he said. "We move out now. Stick together, keep your eyes peeled, and no clowning around--that means you three." His stern look was aimed at Ron, Cannonball and Iceman, who returned his stare with expressions of wide-eyed innocence. "Mr Moody and Mr Wagner, can you watch the rear? Thank you. Who'll take Dr Banner?"

"I have him," replied Beast, picking up his sleeping friend as lightly as a child. Shacklebolt nodded, and then took the lead, with Scott beside him and Harry and Marie close behind.

Some miles away, Bellatrix Lestrange watched the movements of the company by converting a small pool to a scrying glass. She seethed with frustration, humiliation and fear. Bellatrix had been at the point of finally disposing of her traitorous cousin, when she had felt a strong grip on the back of her neck, and everything had gone dark. She had awakened to find herself lying bound on the gallery above the Hall, listening to the sounds of celebration from below.

Fortunately, whoever had applied the Binding charm had been no expert, and the bonds had faded quickly. Bellatrix began to revive her companions, preparing them for a last strike. Then she had heard the enemy begin their descent into the cave. Quickly making their way down to the Hall, her squad had freed most of the Death Eaters there. But before they could follow the Order's minions, there had been a series of muffled booms, and the entire Keep had started to shake and crumble.

There had been no option but to flee, as those outside had already done. Bellatrix remained long enough to seal the great door before Apparating to this small cave. She had been unable to resist projecting an image back into the Keep, to mock her trapped enemies, and had thus been shocked at the ease with which the black-clad youth had broken her trap. She had also been unnerved by the green-skinned ogre that had emerged from the ruins of the Keep. Could this creature be solely responsible for the destruction?

She had watched as the French slut and the skinny tart in the slinky black uniform (she really must get one of those) had somehow soothed the ogre into sleep. Then Bellatrix had been amazed to discover that the ogre was merely the pathetic Muggle her Dark Lord had enslaved. As the group moved off, doubtless to return to Hogwarts, Bellatrix sat back and wondered what her Master would do now.

The answer came soon, as a wavering image of Voldemort appeared before her. She cowered before him. "Master! Forgive me. I have failed you," she whispered miserably.

"Enough!" snapped the tall figure. "You are not _wholly_ to blame. There are forces acting here that even I failed to anticipate. It seems that Potter and Dumbledore have been acquiring allies. I have been remiss in ignoring these _Mutants_. We must discover the source of their powers before we move forward.

"For now, however, return to me at the Sanctum. We will discuss your failure at leisure."

"At once, Master," said Bellatrix submissively. The projection vanished and she prepared to Apparate to her Lord's side, smiling in anticipation of her punishment.

As the company proceeded through the woods, Harry fell back to walk beside Peter and Kitty. He had thought he'd be jealous of Kitty's new relationship, but he was so involved with Ginny that all he could be was happy for the pretty American girl who had awakened his heart and was now one of his best friends. But his business now was with the big Russian.

He said, "Peter, back there you took a Killing Curse for me. That takes bottle, mate, I owe you one."

Peter gave his deep chuckle. "If by 'bottle' you mean guts - no way, Harry. It's pretty much clear after all this that spells don't work on me when I'm Colossus. Besides, we're on the same team, Hawk, so no thanks necessary."

Harry shook his head. "You couldn't be sure it wouldn't work on you, Peter. Just because all the others haven't doesn't mean that you're completely invulnerable."

"Oh, I think it does, Harry. Professor McGonagall told me a while back that I _confuse_ spells, somehow." Peter shrugged. "She got kinda technical on me, so I'm not sure how it works. I guess it's not only the magic that's confused," he admitted, grinning.

Hermione spoke up from behind them. "It's actually very simple, Peter. Some spells work on living beings; others affect inanimate objects. When you're Colossus, one kind sees you as steel, so those won't work, but the other kind recognises you as human, so those can't touch you, either."

"Hang on," objected Ron. "Harry and I used spells on those Sentinels, and they worked."

"Yes, Ron," Hermione sighed, "but the Sentinels are robots - like golems, they're not alive--sort of like what's between your ears."

"Thank you, darling," said Ron.

"Any time, my sweet," murmured Hermione. "You more than make up for it elsewhere, though."

"Are they always like this?" Peter asked.

"Oh, yes!" chorused Kitty and Harry.

Narcissa's scrying glass was less _ad hoc_ than Bellatrix's; it was, in fact, her dressing table mirror. She watched as the Phoenix squad and their allies caught up with the two shape-shifters and the stocky, clawed Mutant. They were joined by the air patrol near the Portkey, which would take them, in small groups, back to Hogwarts. Narcissa could not follow them there, if Dumbledore did not detect her, then that dried-up old bitch McGonagall surely would. _No one's tumbled Minerva in a long time, _thought Narcissa, _and it's soured her disposition_.

Not that Narcissa's own disposition was the best just then. She had woken suddenly to find herself lying on her bed, covered modestly with a sheet, with Harry gone and the craving in her body still unsatisfied. Her hand had flown to the sore spot on her neck. What had he done to her? How had she, Narcissa Black Malfoy, arch plotter, expert seductress, been so deftly outmanoeuvred by a teenaged boy?

Seething with frustration, humiliation and fury, Narcissa had flown to her mirror and commanded it to show her the Keep. There had been a battle-royal raging there, and Harry Potter was in the thick of it. Her mood swinging wildly between rage, fear, awe and lust, Narcissa had watched as the mixed force of wizards and Mutants had crushed the Death Eater ambush. She had seen, earlier in the day, the powers of some of the Mutants in action - the basilisk-like one who fired beams from his eyes, the green-haired woman who had power over metal, and others. Now she saw more - the steel giant and the ice elemental she recognised from Draco's accounts - but there was one who hurled dragon blasts of fire, and a red-haired werewolf who could control her transformation.

Narcissa paid scant attention to these creatures. Her eyes and mind were fixed on Harry. He fought, and, oh, he was _magnificent_! If only Draco, or even Lucius, could match him, Narcissa would have been content. She felt a pang of pure hatred for the small, fiery and formidable redhead who stayed so close by Harry's side - Ginevra Weasley, she remembered - Harry's current _inamorata_. That pureblood girl would have made an ideal bride for Draco, if Lucius and Arthur Weasley could have set aside their schoolboy feud - and if Draco had shown any sign of either knowing or caring about what his genitals were for.

Then her eye was drawn to the gallery and another figure that stood watching the fight. Surely it could not be..._Sirius?_ It was impossible. Somehow, Harry had resolved the dilemma she and Voldemort had set for him, and managed to bring his godfather out alive. _How?_ Then she saw Bellatrix and her group attack - saw Bellatrix crumple to the ground at the merest touch of a tall girl with a streak of white in her hair, and saw the girl take up Bellatrix's wand and use it. What had Draco babbled about? Some Mutant girl who could draw the power out of anyone she touched and use it herself for a while?

Narcissa was nobody's fool. It took her only moments to work out how Harry had managed to free Sirius. But the depth of courage and trust between the two young people the solution must have needed awed and frightened her. She had never had the bravery to trust anyone so absolutely. She continued to watch, observing the confrontation with Voldemort and the shocking emergence of the green-skinned juggernaut that caused the Dark Lord to flee.

Narcissa swore to herself; she _had _been a fool. After the events of the Spring, she had determined to learn more about Muggles, since some of them appeared to possess strange abilities. She had searched the American press, as their publications seemed to carry more information. Narcissa had learned much: She had read of a young man who seemed to have the powers of a spider; she had seen interviews with four extraordinary people who lived in New York; there had been articles about the millionaire inventor whose bodyguard wore a suit of invincible, golden armour, and about the living manifestation of a Norse god.

There had, of course, been endless scare stories about the "Mutant Menace". Among these had been stories of the sporadic appearance of a green ogre or giant the reporters called "the Incredible Hulk". Some had speculated about the creature's connection with a place called "Gamma Base", near some place called "Area 51". Banner must have been chosen because of his expertise with these gamma rays! Narcissa should have seen the connection, should have been able to make some use of it.

Now, she disenchanted the mirror to find her own face staring back at her. She had come so _close_! She had been in his arms, almost naked, her mouth locked on his, and then... How had he done that? _Why_ had he done that? And why in that particular way? Virtuous refusal, shyness, teenaged over-excitement, all of these she could have dealt with, but not...deception. He had charmed her, disarmed her, held her, caressed her, and kissed her. Gods! _He _had seduced _her._

Narcissa rose from the dressing table, still wearing her gown, the one Harry had slipped so gently from her shoulders. In a fit of fury, she stripped it off and threw it to the floor. Naked, she stood and stared down at the silky garment. She licked her lips; she could still taste him. She bent and snatched up the robe, pressing it to her face and inhaling deeply. His smell was still on it - a masculine musk of sweat, leather and youth that excited her almost beyond bearing. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw his penetrating green ones boring into her.

Sobbing, Narcissa flung herself on the bed. "Damn you, Harry!" she raged. "Damn you, damn you, _damn you!"_"

Her fury gave her no solace. Deep in her heart, Narcissa knew that she was the one who was damned.

**Chapter 13: Time Enough for Love - and Tea!**

It took a while, but finally everyone had assembled in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. There were sandwiches, tea and coffee available, but the main table was set up for a conference, and it was clear that a long debriefing was ahead of them. Professor Dumbledore had come straight over to Harry, looking him up and down keenly, and taking his hand in a firm grip,

"Well, Harry," he said, "once again, you show your talent for beating the odds. I might have known, though," he glanced over Harry's shoulder at Marie, who was greeting Professor McGonagall, "that Miss D'Ancanto would take a decided hand in matters."

"I'm awfully glad she did, Professor," stated Harry. "Without Marie's help, I'd not have been able to retrieve Sirius."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "You have managed to restore Mr Black to us? This is remarkable, Harry! I must hear all about it."

"You will, during the debrief," promised Harry. "But later, Professor, you and I need to talk about some things. I've got questions, and they need answers."

Dumbledore was suddenly looking into a pair of emerald eyes that were as hard as the gems they resembled. Harry had not raised his voice, but there was an edge to it that indicated he was not to be put off or cajoled. Dumbledore nodded, secretly pleased. "Of course, Harry, we'll talk as soon as this main meeting is over."

But there was one more piece of business to get through before the meeting could start. With the loudest boom any of them had ever heard, Molly Weasley Apparated into the Hall and flew towards the youngsters. Of course, she gave the first attention to her own children - which in her view also included Harry and Hermione - but not one of the young wizards or Mutants was neglected in her round of careful inspections, affectionate chidings and rib-cracking hugs. When she had satisfied herself that all the teenagers were whole and well, she finally flung herself into Arthur's arms, and the couple kissed with a passionate abandon that raised more than a few youthful eyebrows. When Arthur came up for air, he glanced around and asked, "What? Did you kids think _you'd _invented sex?"

"Arthur!" Molly went red and hid her face in his shoulder.

Arthur laughed. "Well, I mean, love, to look at that shower, you'd think they _believed_ we'd found them under gooseberry bushes."

It was too much for Bob, who doubled over whooping with laughter. That set Ron and Sam off, and soon everyone was laughing. Even Snape managed a sardonic chuckle. Then they had to try to explain everything to Fleur, who had just returned from settling Dr Banner in the care of Madam Pomfrey, who had cut her holiday short in view of the emergency.

The meeting that followed _was_ a long one. First, Cyclops and Shacklebolt gave an account of the assault on the Keep. Remus then told how he, Beast and Nightcrawler had penetrated the fortress and discovered the ambush laid inside. Then Harry and Marie took turns telling about the young people's adventures within the Labyrinth, the various trials and tests, and finally the discovery of Sirius and Voldemort's final trap.

When Marie told of their arrival at the Keep and their discovery of the fight going on there, Harry skimmed over the details of his side trip to Malfoy Manor, saying only that Narcissa had tried to recruit him for some group she belonged to, "Not the Death Eaters, some bunch called the Knights of something or other." Though he mentioned Xavier's intervention, Harry kept quiet about his own telepathic foray into Narcissa's mind; he didn't want any more rumours circulating about him.

"One thing," Snape asked, "how _exactly_ did Mrs Malfoy attempt to recruit you, Mr Potter? She does not seem the type to offer what I believe Muggles call a 'sales pitch'."

"Ah, I don't think we need go into details about that, Severus," said Sirius sharply. "Let's just say that Narcissa used very, er, _traditional_ methods which Harry, with the Professor's help, was able to resist."

"Good enough, Black." Snape nodded. "I have some familiarity with Narcissa's persuasive methods," he added with a faint smile.

"Have you, by Jupiter?" asked Remus, surprised.

"Indeed--a regrettable lapse of taste on her part, I always felt," said Snape, while directing a sly glance at Harry. "And not her only such lapse, it seems."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Quite. However, that is something of a digression. As to the matter of Mrs Malfoy's possible affiliations, that is also not germane to this session. Miss D'Ancanto, could you take us through the events that occurred while Harry was elsewhere?"

Marie explained what had happened in the Keep's Hall. Shacklebolt and Cyclops picked up the thread from there, bringing everyone up to date.

As they concluded, Madam Pomfrey came into the Hall to report on Banner's condition. "The poor man is in a terrible state, half-starved and completely exhausted. He is absolutely not to be moved or disturbed until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Oh," said Scott. "I'd hoped we'd be able to take him back to Xavier's this evening." He looked around the table, from Madam Pomfrey's disapproving frown past the anxious looks of the youngsters until he reached Fleur's pleading gaze. He hesitated, then asked, "Professor Dumbledore, could we stay here for another night?"

"Most assuredly, Scott. In fact, I have already instructed the house-elves to prepare Gryffindor Tower for the young people. I do hope Miss Lovegood and Miss Padma Patil will not mind lodging there under the circumstances?"

The two girls allowed they would manage. Scott noted, "OK, then, but I'll have to let Professor Xavier know."

"That's all right, Mr Summers," put in Molly. "Charles told me that I was to encourage you to stay the night."

In answer to Cyclops' surprised expression, she explained, "Charles managed to contact me the other night, to tell me the children were safe. After that, I've been keeping an ear open, as it were, for him. How do you think I knew to come here when I did?" She smiled. "Charles is rather a charming man, don't you think, Minerva?"

"I really hadn't noticed," replied McGonagall blandly.

Molly smiled mischievously, then delved into the large bag she had brought with her, producing a number of small packets. "I've Flooed round everyone's parents, and I washed the things you American kids brought with you, so you can all change into clean clothes. I also got hold of underwear for all of you - I had to guess at the sizes, but I'm sure a quick spell or two will help the fit. I also got some pyjamas and nighties and stuff."

"Splendid," said Dumbledore. "That's all settled, then. Now, as I see it, it is almost five o'clock, too late for afternoon tea. However, I am sure none of us wishes to wait until dinnertime. So, shall we reconvene here in, say, an hour-and-a-half? I will have Dobby and the others prepare a high tea for us."

Everyone agreed to that, and the meeting broke up. The youngsters made their way to Gryffindor Tower. Marie felt a great sense of comfort and familiarity as she entered the Common Room - she had spent many happy times there. The process of getting washed and changed was a brisk one, but they all felt better for it, finally settling into the Common Room for a little talk before tea.

Poor Harry had to endure a deal of good-natured ribbing about his 'adventure' at Malfoy Manor. Mainly, though, those young X-Men who had not been to Hogwarts were keen to find out more about the Castle, the school and its customs. The House system particularly interested them, though Xavier's was too small a school to need one.

During a lull in the conversation, Dani suddenly turned to Ron, "Hey, Hunter, you said you had something to explain to me?"

"So I did," agreed Ron. He looked at Hermione. "Shan't be many minutes, love."

Hermione grinned, "All right, darling. But make sure you explain things _thoroughly_ to Dani. I don't want any misunderstandings."

Ron got up and, taking Dani's hand, led her out of the Common Room. Harry glanced sharply at Hermione, but her face was serene as she carried on chatting with Marie.

Ron and Dani were gone about ten minutes, and when they came back, Ron looked much the same as ever, flopping down beside Hermione with a gusty sigh, and kissing her on the side of the head as she pulled her slim hand firmly into his great fist. Dani, however, lagged a little behind Ron, and was staring at him; she was looking unusually flushed and bright-eyed. Before going back to her place next to Roberto, she leaned over quickly and whispered to Hermione. Only Rogue's keen ears caught the three words, "You _lucky _bitch!" Hermione's smile remained angelic.

At that point, Professor Dumbledore came into the room. "Harry, you wanted to speak with me?"

Harry nodded, and the two left the Common Room, making their way to an empty classroom. "We won't be disturbed here," promised Dumbledore. "What did you need to ask me, Harry?"

"Well, first off," Harry told him, "I'm not going to lose my rag and start breaking things this time, OK? I've got past all that now, I hope.

"Now, I told you about Voldemort's note in the Labyrinth, but I left one part out. In the note, he told me that anyone could have got Sirius back, that it was a simple ritual, but that it was Necromancy - a Dark Art - so you refused to use it, or allow me to. Look, Professor, I'm inclined to take anything Voldemort says with about a ton of salt, and I do realise that saving one wizard doesn't rank high in your priorities when you're trying to stop or win a war. But I do have to ask: If there was a way to get Sirius back, a simple way, why didn't you do it? Or why didn't you at least tell me it could be done and how?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Necromancy is classed as one of the Dark Arts, Harry, for a number of reasons. Firstly, the spirits of the dead are reluctant to be called back, and it causes them great pain and suffering. Only great need or great love can draw them willingly, as it did your parents when you confronted Voldemort two years ago. For this reason alone, we reject the practice.

"Now, I know that this would not apply to Sirius, who was thrust beyond the Veil whilst still alive, but there is another consideration. In order to draw a spirit back, another spirit must be offered in exchange. Usually, it is the spirit of an animal, which fades quickly, returning the human shade to the realm of death. A human sacrifice is required for permanent return--" Dumbledore broke off, seeing the sudden look of horror on Harry's face. He raised a calming hand.

"No, don't be concerned, Harry. In this case, Sirius passed into the Veil alive. In any case, a blasphemous rite such as human sacrifice shrieks aloud to those with ears to hear. The gods loathe such acts. I would have known had Voldemort conducted that ritual.

"But still, the Guardians of the Gateway must be placated with blood. Doubtless some small animal, a cat or a dog, was tortured to death to effect Sirius' return. Fair exchange, some may say, for a human being, but others would disagree. I myself would refrain from the rite out of respect for all life, but I suppose I should have offered you the choice, Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry shook his head. "Don't be. I don't think I could have done that, either. If I had, Sirius wouldn't have thanked me for it. In the end, then, it's just more blood on Riddle's head. He's welcome to it."

"Quite so," Dumbledore agreed. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes." Harry frowned. "In the Labyrinth, whenever Amagor spoke to me, he called me 'Dunadan'. Does that mean anything to you?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating. The word is in a very ancient language, no longer spoken in this world. It means, as far as I can recall, 'Man of the West'."

"That's weird. I'd have thought that was more suitable for one of the Americans," remarked Harry.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I think not. Such writings as we have are still in need of further translation, but it is clear that 'Dunadan' was a term used to refer to the descendants of certain tribes who came to the mainland from a large island in the Atlantic, which seems to have suffered some kind of catastrophe, possibly volcanic, millennia ago. These tribes appeared to be more advanced than the mainland peoples and to have formed an empire of sorts. Their royal house was held to be descended from an incredibly ancient bloodline."

"Amagor talked about my 'unfailing line'; I wondered what he meant," said Harry.

"Amagor is a djinn," Dumbledore reminded Harry. "He's a very ancient being. It is likely he has access to information we do not possess. It is possible that you are, however remotely, descended from that line of primitive tribal rulers. I would advise you, however, not to let that knowledge go to your head. It is entirely possible that if Professor Snape heard about it, he would suffer an apoplectic fit on the spot."

Harry chuckled. "I'll bet he would. Might be almost worth it at that. Look, thanks, Professor. There is one more thing, though. If you find out any more about those Knights Mrs Malfoy was on about, let me know, will you? I'm sort of fed up about being kept in the dark." Rising to leave the room, Harry added, "I'll leave the three of you to talk about it."

"Three?"

Harry shook his head. He addressed one corner of the room. "Professor McGonagall, when a bloke's got a girlfriend, he learns to recognise perfumes because it's important not to be caught with the wrong one on you."

McGonagall was actually smiling as she emerged from the Disillusionment Charm. "I warned you, Albus. Mr Potter is a perceptive and clever young man. My apologies, Mr Potter, forgive my curiosity. Next time, I will ask."

Harry nodded, then turned as Severus Snape appeared in the other corner. "And how did you detect my presence, Mr Potter?"

"I didn't," Harry lied. "It was an educated guess." But he thought, _For someone who teaches Occlumency, you think awfully loudly, Professor._ "I'll see you all at tea," he said aloud, and left.

The three Professors stared after him. "Born a wizard, raised by Muggles, trained by Mutants," breathed McGonagall. "What have we created, Albus?"

"Something unique in all the world, I imagine," Dumbledore replied.

Snape snorted. "He's not what you wanted, Albus. In the name of your precious prophecy, you tried to forge a weapon aimed at Voldemort. Well, you have that, but Potter is now more than a weapon. He's a force in himself, one to be reckoned with. We should pray that he chooses the right path."

The bell summoning everyone to tea was perhaps the most welcome sound any of them had heard that day. "What's a 'high tea'?" asked Sam.

"You'll see," Lavender told him.

A high tea turned out to be cold meats--chicken, turkey, roast beef, roast pork, ham, pressed tongue and haslet. It also meant pork pies, sausage rolls, Cornish pasties and Scotch eggs. There were three types of bread, butter, wild honey, plum jam, damson jam and strawberry jam. At least six cheeses, ranging from sharp, nutty-tasting farmhouse Cheddar to mild, white Caerphilly were arranged among fresh lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, spring onions, radishes and sweet, red-skinned salad onions. A variety of pickled vegetables, including cucumber, beetroot, onions and gherkins along with sweet pickle and spicy yellow piccalilli, mayonnaise, and vinaigrette dressing added relish, while coleslaw and potato salad offered still more choices. There was as much tea as anyone could possibly want to drink, as well as lemonade and ginger beer. Ron, Sam and Peter settled themselves at the table with the air of people who were prepared to stay there all night, if necessary.

The Weasley twins entered a little late and were looking for somewhere to sit. "Fred! George!" called Parvati. "There's plenty of room here. You can sit with us." The twins looked at the two pretty, dark-eyed girls smiling invitingly at them, exchanged a glance, and came over with some alacrity.

For a while, everyone concentrated on eating. The only interruption occurred when Alison confused English mustard with American mustard, and discovered her error at the cost of a red face, streaming eyes and a good deal of coughing and spluttering.

Just as plates were mostly empty, the food on the table magically became dessert. "Oh, man," groaned Kitty. "I'm gonna gain twenty pounds."

"Nonsense, dear," called Molly from further up the table. "Eat up! You're nothing but skin and bone."

It was hard to resist this array of chocolate éclairs, cream slices, apple turnovers and scones piled high with strawberry jam and clotted cream. There was fruitcake, and bowls of sweet strawberries, and tart raspberries with more clotted cream. Marie missed her favourite treacle pudding, but found herself well compensated by her first spoonful of trifle.

With dessert came conversation for most, though Peter, Sam and Ron continued to eat with a single-minded determination that caused Hermione to dub them "The Three Trenchermen of the Apocalypse".

Beast was saying, "The phenomenon was obviously an ancient one, predating the Keep itself by some millennia, I'd judge."

"A natural one?" asked McGonagall.

"Possibly. I can't be certain without a geological survey of the area, of course. However, if the gamma source itself was a meteorite, its impact could have magnetized iron-bearing rocks in the area and generated the field which contained the radiation."

"And if it is not natural?"

"Then we're left with the speculation that it is some kind of alien technology. Alien races have visited Earth in the past, among them the Kree, the Skrulls, the Shi'ar, the Brood and the Dire Wraiths. None of them utilise gamma radiation in their current technology, however.

"The other possibility is that it is some kind of failed gamma weapon - a neutron bomb or something similar. UNIT files indicate that at least one race - the Daleks - have used such weapons elsewhere."

Ginny was saying to Kitty, "I know, you have to hit Harry over the head sometimes. I swear, I had to virtually strip off and jump on him to get him to do anything more than kiss me."

"Tell me about it!" Kitty winced. "All those months, and all we ever did was kiss. Well, almost all."

"Oh, really? Tell me more."

"Oi," interrupted Harry. "I'm sitting right here."

"No shit, Sherlock!" chorused the girls.

Ron was telling Sam and Peter, "So Batman says 'Was Wonder Woman surprised?', and Superman says, 'Not as surprised as the Invisible Man.'." Both lads howled with laughter.

Hermione glared at Ron. "And just where did you get _that_ one from, Mr Weasley?"

"Your dad," said Ron instantly.

"Oh!" Hermione sputtered, then rallied. "Well, now we know what you two were doing when you said you were gardening. What do they call it - male bonding? Drinking cans of lager, looking at nudie magazines and telling dirty jokes, I call it."

"And burping," Ron reminded her gravely. "You left out the burping."

"It's real important, the burping," Sam agreed.

"Burping," said Peter solemnly, "is central to the whole male-bonding process." He addressed himself to his third huge slice of fruitcake.

Hermione threw up her hands, "I give up! I really do. Why do we have anything to do with men?"

"Cuddling," said Lavender, leaning in close to Neville. "A girl can do without flowers, diamonds, pretty dresses and even sex in a pinch - but we need our cuddles. For some reason, only men can do it properly."

Whatever was going on between the Weasley and Patil twins, it was going on very quietly, and completely absorbed the attention of all four. There was no burping involved, but cuddling might well be coming into it at some point.

The afternoon became evening, and then, with certain inevitability, the evening became night. People scattered into groups. Logan, Snape, Moody, Banshee, Remus, Hank and Kurt made tracks for the Three Broomsticks, along with Shacklebolt and most of the Aurors. Arthur and Molly Flooed back to The Burrow, pointing out that they seldom got the house to themselves. Lorna and Alex stayed talking in the Great Hall with Scott, Fleur, Bill and Tonks. Sirius and Ororo were chatting with Dumbledore and McGonagall.

The teenagers, and the Weasley twins, based themselves in the Gryffindor Common Room. They talked over the adventures of the last couple of days, filled in the gaps of the last few months, and realised, one way and another, how much they all meant to each other. Couples wandered in and out, seeking private moments as the mood took them. Eventually, they all drifted off to bed and a well-earned sleep.

Bill and Tonks made their way up to the Astronomy Tower again. For a while, there was the sound of soft conversation. Then there were other sounds, equally soft, and perhaps more meaningful.

Sirius and Ororo walked around the school hand in hand, talking. Sirius pointed out favourite locations as he told her of this or that prank or embarrassing moment he and his friends had had there. Storm told him about her childhood, and about what McGonagall had revealed to her - her potential for witchcraft.

But in the end, they could no longer avoid the subject uppermost in their minds. Sirius turned to her, taking both her hands in his. "Ororo, I know how I feel about you, but there's something...Look, how old do you think I am?"

Storm appraised him. "Early to mid thirties, I'd say, why?"

"I'm thirty-seven. You're what, twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Twenty-three, if it matters."

"So I'm more than ten years older than you. Ororo, I have to ask, do you think it's right? I mean, there are men closer to your age around, and--"

She shushed him imperiously. "Sirius, be quiet. Where I grew up, my mother was a priestess, as I said. Even though I was small, she made me listen when the young folk came to her about these matters. My people believed that women should choose their men, not the other way round. The young girls all thought that young men - boys - were fun to play with, flirt with, and..._romp_ with, I suppose you'd call it. But when it came to choosing the man you wanted to get serious with, you looked for someone older, someone of proven strength, wisdom and courage. All the things I see in you, Sirius.

"So I have to ask something, too. Sirius Black, do you think you could love me?"

He stared at her, and couldn't hedge or lie. "Yes, Ororo, I do. With all my heart."

"I think I'm already in love with you," she replied, and moved into his arms.

The timeless length of a kiss later, they slowly resumed their walk, not speaking because they didn't need to. Then Sirius spied a door. "Merlin! What's that doing here?"

"What?" asked Ororo.

Sirius opened the door, explaining, "It's called the Room of Requirement. It's there when you need it, and it's whatever you need it to be."

The room looked like the interior of a log cabin, but a very up-market log cabin. Storm laughed delightedly. "Oh! You see these all the time in the movies. Look, there's the hearth, and the fur rugs, and everything. I always wanted to stay in one of these," she looked at Sirius, "with someone very special."

They moved into the room. There was a small table, on which stood a silver bucket of ice with a bottle in it, and two glasses. Storm looked at the bottle. "Hmm...Bollinger, no less. Good year, too, if Charles told me right. D'you want to open this?"

Sirius took the bottle from her, and put it back in the ice. "I think it needs to chill a little more," he told her. Her eyes glowed as he drew her down onto the rug before the hearth.

Scott and Fleur had walked in the soft night, talking quietly, intimately, coming to know each other better. Scott told her of the plane crash that had claimed his parents' lives, of how he had protected Alex with his own small body, sustaining the head injury that rendered him unable to control his Mutant power completely. He told her of his childhood in orphanages until the day his power began to manifest and he had fled, leaving Alex behind rather than let him be stigmatised as the brother of a destructive freak. He had been found sleeping rough by Banshee, himself sent by Xavier, who had detected Scott with the first version of Cerebro. So Scott had become the first of the X-Men. Sadly, but with relief, he told her about Jean.

In her turn, Fleur spoke of her childhood in a pretty chateau in France. She told him with some bitterness of the prejudice she had met at Beauxbatons because she was part Veela, and how it had driven her to excel, so she had been chosen for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But she had not done well at the Tournament, and that had made her push herself even harder, trying to make a career for herself at Gringotts in Britain, where no one seemed to care about her Veela heritage. She spoke wistfully of Bill, chastising herself for her failure to realise that they were fundamentally unsuited.

The pair had come to a grove that stood near the Castle. Scott looked up at the stars, feeling the warm night about him, and for the first time in over a year, felt a surge of true happiness. He turned to face Fleur, and she pointed her wand at him, murmuring words he couldn't catch. Scott blinked. Suddenly he was seeing the world without the visor that had framed his vision for so long! He closed his eyes tightly and his hands flew to his face, only to come up against the familiar barrier. _What?_

He felt Fleur's strong, slim fingers on his wrists, and let her pull his hands away. He looked down at her, and she smiled up at him, saying, "Do not be afraid, Scott. Eet ees only a leetle spell to make invisible your visor. Eet weel 'old back your power as before. I wished only to see your eyes, _cheri._ Zey are beautiful, but so sad."

He didn't answer, just drew her to him and kissed her passionately. When they had finished, his eyes were no longer sad. They were brown, and warm, and they looked at Fleur in a way that set her heart pounding. She began to speak, but Scott closed her lips with another quick kiss.

"That's enough," he told her gently. "You said it yourself, honey. We _talk_ too much." Silently, clasped in each other's arms, the couple sank to the soft turf.

The morning brought Molly Weasley in a tremendous bustle, with a sheaf of invitation cards. "It's Ginny's birthday the day after tomorrow," she explained. "We're having an all-day barbecue and swimming party for the young people, and a dance in the evening. So I thought why not get the grown-ups along for a get-together as well? It's all very well to meet up on business all the time, but a little socialising can't do any harm."

"Oh, can't it?" groaned a rather fragile-looking Remus. He had overindulged the previous night, and had now reached the stage where he knew he was going to live, but wasn't sure he wanted to. He gave Wolverine a bloodshot glare. "Dammit, Logan! Haven't you the decency to have a proper hangover?"

Logan grinned, looking disgustingly robust. "My healing factor, Remus. Same as with smoking, booze don't do me no harm at all."

Ororo and Sirius approached Professor McGonagall. Ororo said, "Professor, I have to think a little longer about what you told me. I need some time to decide. When I come back in a couple of days, I'll have an answer for you."

McGonagall said, "Take all the time you need, Ororo. I'm sure Mr Black will be available to assist with your deliberations."

Sirius shook his head. "I won't be putting any pressure on Ororo either way. After all, for a wizard, it's not so very far to Xavier's. For now, though, I need to sort out Grimmauld Place, and I want to spend some time with Harry and Remus." He smiled at Ororo. "Dumbledore and Shacklebolt are addressing the Wizengamot today. If everything goes well, I'll have all the time in the world for other things."

Fleur didn't want to let Scott go, but she knew if she wanted to keep this man, she must not come between him and his duty. At least she had an invitation to the party. She had begun by demurring, as she was no longer with Bill, but Molly had brushed her objections aside. "Don't be silly, dear. If you don't come, who will Scott here have to dance with?"

Now they stood together, holding each other. "I'll see you soon, Fleur," Scott promised.

"I know," she replied, "and by zen I weel 'ave 'ad ze time to make some leetle arrangements. Zere weel be no need for zese clumsy Muggle aircraft, and we weel see each other whenever we wish, no?"

"I hope so," Scott said with feeling.

Ali clung to Seamus. "It's too soon! I don't want to leave you!"

"Hush now, darlin'," he comforted her. "It's only a day or so, to be sure. An' after that, why I'll have a little surprise or two for you that will make everythin' just fine."

Alison accepted that and kissed him. She knew that if Seamus said he'd make everything right, he would.

Molly was handing Snape an invitation. He tried to decline. "It is kind of you to ask me, Mrs Weasley, but--"

"I'm not _asking_ you, Severus," Molly interrupted. "I'm _telling_ you. It's high time you stopped moping around the place with a face like a wet weekend at Margate. If it's so hard to be nice to people, you can always sit in a corner with that Wolverine chap and make sarcastic comments. There's a pub in the village, and the two of you can always slope off for a quiet pint, the way Arthur and the boys do whenever I mention gardening."

There was, Snape realised, no arguing with Molly Weasley, or with any woman who could hold her own in a house full of Weasley men. He accepted the invitation with a sigh. Molly gave him a bright smile, then turned away and made for Cyclops.

"Scott, here's Charles' invitation. I made him promise to come, and I'm relying on you to make certain that he does. I'm rather tired of seeing him sitting on my sofa and not being able to give him a cup of tea!"

Farewells were cordial, and in some cases affectionate, but not extended; Mutants and wizards would, after all, be seeing each other soon. Bruce Banner, who was weak but conscious, managed to thank everyone sincerely and tried to apologise for his alter ego's destructive behaviour. The Americans climbed into their plane, which soon rose into the summer sky and disappeared into the west.

Sirius approached Harry where he stood, an arm around Ginny as always, looking after the plane. "Harry? I gather you're staying at The Burrow? Good, at least you're away from those Dursleys.

"Now look, it's going to take a week or so to shovel out Grimmauld Place, but once I do, you'll have your own room there." He glanced at Ginny. "I'll make it a double room."

"I should hope so," said Ginny cheekily, then darted forward and impulsively hugged Sirius, pulling him down so she could kiss his cheek. "There. You're officially family now."

"Am I indeed?" asked Sirius. Despite his humorous tone, he was touched. "Well, Harry, could you stand to set up in a bachelor establishment?"

"Bachelor? With this one and Ororo watching us like hawks? Not much chance of that, Sirius, but we could give it a try." Harry grinned, but inside he was ecstatic. He might never have to go back to Privet Drive again!

Sirius had other thoughts in his mind. To be free again was wonderful! To have Harry - and Ginny, for that matter - living with him would make his home a joyful place. But Sirius' heart was somewhere over the Atlantic with the beautiful elemental Mutant he had met only the previous day. So much depended on Ororo's decision, and it was one he could not, and would not, influence. Still, he prayed that she would follow her heart back to him.

**Chapter 14: "Love is the road that leads to hope."**

Deep in the safety of his sanctum, Lord Voldemort bowed before the hideous idol with its octopus head and dragon wings. He chanted, "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

With the ritual concluded, Voldemort turned away from the altar. In truth, he knew little, and cared less, about the creature to whom he had just made sacrifice, but power was power, and if this Great Cthulhu could bring him more, he would gladly feed the beast's ego.

At his gesture, Bellatrix resumed her robe; it was not required that she perform the ritual nude, but Voldemort enjoyed the sight of her voluptuous body, and saw no reason to deny himself such pleasures. They left the temple, heading for Voldemort's private study, passing the rooms where mistreated house-elves, bound Dementors, and those Death Eaters who were forced to hide from the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix passed their time working at various tasks or awaiting commands from their Dark Lord.

It was the second day after Voldemort's failure to obtain the Talisman of Life Unending, and he and his people had not been idle. The most cursory examination of the Keep had shown that the Talisman was buried under tons of rubble. It might be possible to disinter it, but not without attracting unwanted attention. Even if the Talisman could be reached, the sphere of radiation that imprisoned it was still intact, and after his encounter with the green ogre, Voldemort was not prepared to bring Bruce Banner into close proximity again!

Voldemort needed to know more about Mutants and other Muggles who had, or claimed to have, superhuman abilities. On the desk in his study, a number of files awaited his perusal, files with titles that intrigued and puzzled the dark wizard: "Weapon X Project", "Alpha Flight", "Avengers Charter", "Enquiry into Costumed Vigilantes" and most interestingly "Mutants - the Next Step in Human Evolution?" by a Dr Jean Grey. Using both physical and magical means to gather this information, Narcissa Malfoy had been most helpful. _That woman is a little too clever,_ mused Voldemort. _I must contrive either to free her husband or initiate her son if I am to control her_.

Voldemort and Bellatrix reached the great, iron-bound door of the study and passed through, Bellatrix pausing to close the forbidding portal behind them. Voldemort advanced halfway into the room, his thoughts elsewhere, before he noticed that someone was seated in the heavy, ornate chair behind his desk. Before he could react, he heard a choked gasp behind him. He spun to see Bellatrix slide to the floor, revealing her attacker - _who was Bellatrix_!

Thunderstruck, Voldemort could only watch as the woman opened the door again, and spoke imperiously to the guards outside, "See that we are not disturbed for any reason!" She closed the door, and then walked boldly past him with a slight smile, to perch elegantly on the edge of the desk.

The shadowy figure in the chair asked in oddly accented English, "What of the other woman, Raven?"

"Don't worry, Erik, that shot will keep her out for hours!" As she spoke, the woman's shape flowed and changed. She grew taller and slimmer. Bellatrix's elaborate, dark robe became a simple, white dress. The woman now confronting Voldemort was exquisitely beautiful, with a fall of long, dark red hair, but her skin was a deep indigo blue, and her eyes were yellow as a cat's. The man leaned forward, revealing an age-marked, but still handsome face, crowned with a vigorous growth of snowy hair and dominated by a pair of ice-blue eyes.

He spoke again. "No doubt, _Lord_ Voldemort"--he compressed a dozen levels of contempt into the title--"you are wondering who and what we are?"

"No need!" snarled Voldemort. "You will tell me everything in a few seconds!" He started forward, raising his wand, and the stranger lifted a hand. Agony blazed through the Dark Lord. Voldemort dropped his wand; he could not move. His blood was on fire as it coursed through his veins.

The woman stepped forward, picked up the wand, and placed it on the desk in front of the stranger before resuming her perch. The pain ended as suddenly as it began, and Voldemort sagged.

The man began to speak again. "Are you such a fool, Mr Riddle? You imagine your pathetic conjuring tricks are a match for one who can control the very iron in your blood? Perhaps your ignorance excuses you. Very well, my name is Erik Lensherr. I am known, and feared, by the Muggle world as Magneto. My associate is Raven Darkholme, who prefers the _nom de guerre_ Mystique. We are Mutants, Riddle, neither Muggles nor wizards, but the future of the human race!"

"So," Voldemort said bitterly, "Dumbledore sends his freakish allies after me rather than facing me himself."

Magneto shook his head. "I do not come on behalf of Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort. Your feud with him is as meaningless to me as my duel with Charles Xavier is to you.

"It may surprise you to learn that I knew of your Wizarding world long before my old friend and adversary Charles did. My beloved wife, my Magda--" he paused a moment and Mystique reached out and placed a hand gently on his forearm. Magneto collected himself. "Magda was of your world, a graduate of your Durmstrang Academy. Our daughter inherited some of her talent, but our son did not.

"She is gone now, but we had friends in your world, friends who know me simply as the Muggle husband of a schoolmate who died tragically young. From them I learned of Lord Voldemort, of his fall, his re-emergence--and of the youth who dogs his destiny, this Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived - now _Hawk _of the X-Men.

"I knew when the Potter boy arrived at Xavier's school, and followed his exploits with some amusement and admiration. I am also aware of what occurred two days ago in Scotland. It is for this reason I decided to pay you this 'courtesy call'."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "You are an enemy of Xavier, this new ally of Dumbledore? Have you come here to offer _me_ an alliance? You have power, Lensherr. We could achieve much together."

Magneto gave a short laugh. "You are too eager, Voldemort. Why should I ally myself with you? To what end and purpose?" Shaking his head, Magneto added, "Charles Xavier and this Dumbledore are friends and colleagues, but they are not allies. They agreed that neither would intervene in the affairs of the other's world except on strictly _humanitarian_ grounds."

Voldemort snorted. "So attacking my followers was a humanitarian gesture, then?"

"An altruistic one, certainly, and typical of Cyclops," Magneto allowed. "Just as Rogue's insistence on following Potter into your Labyrinth was an act of simple friendship.

"It is ironic that the X-Men came to Scotland because you so stupidly had Banner kidnapped. The existence of Banner's brutal and powerful alter ego is no secret, though neither is it widely known. A little research on your part would have revealed the peril in which you had placed yourself and everyone in this country.

"But I did not travel here to educate you." Magneto rose to his feet and came round the table. Despite his age, he was a powerfully built man, a stark contrast to the emaciated Dark Lord.

"Tom Riddle," he said in a quiet, deadly tone, "your plans for the Wizarding world are less than nothing to me. You may do as you please with your fellow enchanters. Any further plans you may have for what you call the Muggle world are also no concern of mine, for now.

"But any act of yours or your lackeys that seems to threaten Mutantkind, I will take as a direct affront. Annoy me, and I will destroy you! Know this also: Charles Xavier is a man of peace, but if threatened, he will fight, and he could crush your mind as easily as I could your body. Leave the Mutant world to Charles and me, _Lord_ Voldemort, or suffer the consequences."

Magneto said to his companion, "Let us leave, Mystique."

The woman moved to one of the windows and opened it, then operated a little device she produced from a pouch at her waist. A door opened in the empty air, and a ramp extended from it into the room. The two Mutants turned away from Voldemort, who darted forward, grabbing for his wand. Magneto gave a negligent wave, and the dark wizard was hurled across the room to lie stunned beside the inert form of Bellatrix.

Inside their cloaked aircraft, Erik Lensherr seated himself in the luxurious passenger cabin. "Take us home, Raven."

"Straight away, Erik. I'll bring you some tea when I've set the auto-pilot."

Magneto leaned back and closed his eyes, then felt an all-too-familiar mental presence.

_That was typically reckless of you, Erik_, chided Charles Xavier.

_Reckless? No. But it was necessary, Charles. That man is mad enough to threaten us all!_

_Erik, there are only a handful of Mutants powerful enough to defeat Voldemort._

_Ah, but Charles, Voldemort does not know that._

_Let us hope he remains unenlightened, Erik._

Xavier opened his eyes to the world around him in time to hear Ron and Peter count: "One, two, three!"

With an indignant squawk, Hermione, clad in a tiny yellow and black bikini, soared gracelessly into the air, then plunged into the pool with a splash that was surprising, considering her size. Charles chuckled and shook his head; the ladies were not having a good day.

It had started when Ginny, by ancient tradition, had been seized and bounced vigorously up and down sixteen times. Then, by way of a finishing touch, Harry and Ron had lofted her into the pool. In the spirit of fairness, Ron and Peter had thrown Harry in after her.

But, after that, the battle of the sexes took a new twist: Any girl injudicious enough to make a remark about her boyfriend's shortcomings discovered that only a whistle was needed to fetch the two brawniest young men nearby. The result was inevitably a 'leg and a wing' into the pool for the unfortunate young woman! Some learned quicker than others - this was Hermione's third dunking.

It was a glorious day, and the pool Arthur and Bill had created was the centre of a good deal of spirited hijinks--not only among the teenagers. Bill Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Alex Summers and Lorna Dane were playing and clowning as vigorously as anyone. So, to Xavier's surprise and deep delight, was Scott, egged on by the stunning Fleur Delacour.

The older people were not immune to the feelings of the day. The corner occupied by Remus Lupin, Hank McCoy and Kurt Wagner was less physically active, but rang with a good deal of laughter. True, Wolverine, Snape, Sean and Moody had headed off to the village, promising to return in time for tea. But the rest had seated themselves comfortably, and were enjoying the chance to chat without danger or looming threat.

Despite the atmosphere of indolent leisure, important things had happened. As soon as the X-Men's aircraft had touched down near The Burrow, the first three people out of it had been Storm, Cyclops and Dazzler. Not surprisingly, the first three people awaiting them had been Sirius, Fleur and Seamus. Fleur had drawn Scott away in one direction; Seamus had pulled Ali off in another. Ororo had simply flung her arms around Sirius' neck and whispered a single word in his ear; he had replied by kissing her for a long time.

Scott and Fleur had kissed and held each other, the young Frenchwoman ecstatic to realise that she had not been simply the passion of a night to this man. He had spoken to her seriously. "Fleur, I want - I need - to be with you. But I can't leave Charles and the X-Men. It's more than duty-- they're my family! So, how are we going to manage this?"

"Oh, _mon amour, _nothing could be simpler!" she said happily. "'Ere, take zese!" She handed him a small, elegant mirror and a silvery key. "Look in ze mirror and call my name. Eet weel be like your fellytone machine. Zen we speak and make ze date. When you are ready, 'old ze key and think of me, and you arrive at my _apartement _in London! _C'est tres facile, n'est-ce-pas?_"

Scott tucked the precious objects away safely, then took the girl in his arms. "_Je t'aime, _Fleur," he breathed.

"I love you too, Scott!" she confessed. "_Et maintenant, cheri_, we enjoy this beautiful day, yes?"

Seamus had similar gifts for Alison, and after the inevitable expressions of delight and affection, was struck by a question. "Now, there's a thing: Why in the world did Harry and Kitty split up, when Harry could have done all this as easily as I did?"

Alison chuckled and shook her head. "Don't know much about women, do you, lover? Kitty was shy, withdrawn and hurting when Harry came into her life, and so was he, but there was a spark between them. Maybe they saw kindred spirits in each other. Who knows? Harry being so goddamned hot couldn't hurt, either.

"But when they came out of their cocoons, they were different people. Kitty's still vulnerable in a lot of ways. Harry? He's an edgy, dangerous kind of guy under that mild-mannered wizard disguise. Right now, Kitty wants safe--she _needs_ safe--and they don't come safer than Petey!

"Also, once Harry got into it with Kitty, he must have realized how he felt about Ginny. He loved her first, I'll bet. He just didn't know how to tell her."

Light dawned, and Seamus nodded. "So when Harry had to leave Xavier's..."

"He and Kitty split up, not because they couldn't be together-after all, honey, a little thing like an ocean can't stop us! No, it was time for them to move on," Alison concluded.

This was a day of days for Sirius. It had begun early, with Remus bursting into Sirius' room at Grimmauld Place brandishing the early edition of the _Daily Prophet._ The banner headlines screamed _BLACK EXONERATED!_ The Wizengamot had worked fast, it seemed, but Dumbledore had told him today that there had already been doubts about his conviction - doubts raised in part by testimony from Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin concerning Peter Pettigrew's confession four years ago. With Fudge no longer in a position to suppress that testimony, the truth had finally come to light.

Sirius glanced across the pool to where Harry was watching Hermione paddle her way to the side. The lad glanced up and caught his eye, grinned widely, and waved. Sirius had had a long talk with his godson the previous day, and had seen a deep change in him. The last time they had spoken, Harry had been an angry, uncertain boy facing a dark future. Now, though the future was no less threatening, Harry faced it as a level-headed, increasingly confident young man.

There was a lot of James in Harry's looks, Sirius decided, and in his stance and voice, but the eyes and the attitude reminded him more of Lily. James had been reckless, and sometimes a braggart and a bully. Harry was sometimes heedless, but in his commitment to fairness--to doing the right thing--Sirius found more than an echo of Lily. There were other traits, as well. Harry had a down-to-earthiness that was pure Weasley, and a cool competence that Sirius guessed had been learned from that young American, Summers.

_Good for you, Harry!_ thought Sirius. _Life's never been easy for you, lad, yet you've made the most of it._

But Sirius could not long keep his thoughts away from the woman at his side. Ororo had raced down the ramp into his arms, and had whispered into his ear the single word, "Yes". It meant so much to both of them. For Ororo, it meant that she had decided to pursue the magical side of her heritage. For Sirius, it meant that he would no longer be alone. For them both, it meant giving their relationship a chance to grow.

Even now, Ororo was listening as Professor McGonagall-in a shocking pink summer dress and a large, straw hat-was explaining how those who came into magic later in life were trained. While she was learning magic, Ororo was going to live at Grimmauld Place; Sirius had promised her that she would have her own rooms. She had laughed and asked "What for?", but they both knew she would need her own space to feel entirely comfortable.

Hermione dragged herself out of the pool and strode over to Ron in full cry. "Ron Weasley! If you think for one moment that you're going to shut me up by throwing me into the pool, you've got another think coming!"

Ron levelled a finger at her and said sternly, "That's what you get for being a naughty girl."

She stopped and stared at him a moment. "You, you, _you...!_"

Ron gave a bellow of laughter, reached out and lifted her effortlessly off her feet. As she began to rail at him, he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to hit him, then she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his middle, and returned the kiss at some length.

After a while, Sirius wondered, "How do they _do_ that?"

"It is a well-known fact, Sirius," said McGonagall dryly, "that adolescents have the ability to breathe through their ears."

After some time, Ron surfaced, and told Hermione rather breathlessly, "And _that's_ what you get for being a _good_ girl."

Pink in the face and equally breathless, Hermione replied, "Ohhh kayyy! I'm on best behaviour from now on."

"I should think so," Ron said, adding, "but I'm a bit overheated now, so..."

"Oh, no!" cried Hermione, and hung on tight, burying her face in Ron's neck as he took two long strides, then bounded into the pool.

"Incoming!" yelled Scott, and everyone scattered.

The splash this time was colossal. Even those sitting well back from the pool got a little of it. Only a hastily erected shield allowed Arthur to save the barbecue from being extinguished. The couple shot to the surface with a powerful thrust of Ron's legs, Hermione throwing wet hair out of her face and shrieking with laughter.

Ginny was having one of the best birthdays ever. So many friends, old and new, her family, wonderful weather and the boy she loved, all in the same place! Harry had given her a gold locket, decorated with green stones, which held a mirror. When she opened it, she could see his face and talk to him. He had also bought her some nightwear that was very pretty, but not terribly practical. Which is to say, it _covered_ everything, but was so filmy that it _hid_ almost nothing.

She had lots more presents, of course, but two stuck out in her mind. Scott gave her a special gift on behalf of everyone at Xavier's. It was a dufflebag with the word _Firebird_ stencilled on the side. The bag contained a full X-Man uniform adorned like Harry's with Gryffindor lions instead of X-logos. Ginny was now officially a reserve X-Man!

The other had come from Fred and George, a new line from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes--a _mood_ T-shirt. It looked like a plain white T-shirt, and Ginny had donned it over her bikini on the twins' insistence. Later, as he got her present from Scott, he laughed and pointed to her chest. The T-shirt now had a logo that read _I'm well chuffed!_ The garment was enchanted so that the slogan on the front matched the wearer's mood. Ginny took it off after she kissed Harry at one point and the T-shirt reported _I'm incredibly randy!_

The day went on, hours going by far too fast. Arthur assiduously flipped burgers and hot dogs on demand. There were also crisps, nuts and tortilla chips. There was homemade lemonade, 'Dandelion and Burdock', and the Americans had brought over enough Coke to float a battleship.

Teatime came round, and the four wanderers returned from the pub. There wasn't much tea as such; everyone was too full of burgers. But there was a cake, with sixteen candles, and everyone sang the birthday song while Ginny did her best to blow them all out. This took some doing, as Fred and George had supplied the candles!

As they stood and sat around eating cake, Snape approached Marie. "Miss D'Ancanto, I must admit I am somewhat surprised by your swimming costume."

Marie glanced down at her skimpy, black one-piece. "Do you like it, Professor?"

"It has a certain appeal, or would have to...most men, I daresay. But it does seem to leave a good deal of you exposed. I would have thought it rather risky for you."

"Not a problem, thanks to you, Professor!" Marie smiled brightly at her former Potions master. "Your concoction got Professor McCoy thinking, and he came up with another formula. It's not as good as yours, but I can wear it as a body spray, and it protects me against light or medium contact for quite a while."

"Ingenious," Snape remarked, nodding thoughtfully.

"Yeah, it's great!" Marie said enthusiastically. "I can wear nice clothes like this and act normal, but I still need your potion for prolonged, um, _intimate_ contact."

Snape decided just then that he needed to refresh his drink.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the time came to change for the evening. The men donned polo shirts and trousers. The ladies took rather longer to arrange their attire.

Ginny looked round the crowded room the girls were using to dress. Most choices ran to short and silky, with lots of bare backs and shoulders - it _was_ a hot night. She shook her head. "Better than mortal man deserves!" she declared.

"You're so right," Marie agreed. "Let's go knock 'em dead!"

Ginny laid hold of the door handle, saying, "It's showtime."

Like a flock of butterflies, the girls flitted out into the garden, alighting on the arms of the young men. Xavier, Dumbledore and McGonagall watched the dancing. A few spells had amplified the CD player to provide music.

"Quite remarkable!" said McGonagall after a time. "Have you noticed that they all seem to be happily exchanging dancing partners?"

"It does seem to demonstrate a considerable degree of mutual affection," Xavier observed.

Logan remarked to Arthur, "D'you realize your wife is out there head-banging to Black Sabbath?"

Arthur deftly flipped a burger into a bun and handed it to Wolverine. "Mustard and ketchup over there. As long as it's only her head - nothing there to damage!"

Neville went over to the CD player, and the music stopped. Neville announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, select your partners for a more mature experience!"

The youngsters descended on the adults _en masse_. Harry and Ginny led Ororo and Sirius onto the dance floor. Dani, eyes alight with mischief, had captured Dumbledore while Roberto drew McGonagall out.

Marie approached Snape, who looked up at her from his seat. "Marie--"

"I know," she interrupted him with a disappointed look, "it wouldn't be proper."

She was about to turn away when Snape rose and offered her his arm. "As I was about to say, Marie, it is some time since I engaged in Terpsichorean activity, but I do have an excellent memory. Shall we?"

Marie beamed and took his arm. He led her to the floor as the strains of _Moonlight Serenade_ rose into the night. Snape permitted himself a small smile as he danced with Marie, leading expertly.

The music became slower and more romantic. People stopped exchanging partners, clinging closer to their chosen ones. The Patil sisters had gained a firm hold on the Weasley twins, and nobody was letting go anytime soon. Luna had been content to dance rather formally with Shiro, and now the two of them sat talking about Japanese culture. Neither of them seemed interested in romance.

Finally, it was time for bed. The older adults were to be accommodated in The Burrow itself. For the younger people, a small village of tents had been set up in the field near the house.

Hermione waited alone in the tent she ostensibly shared with Ginny, who had already slipped out to meet with Harry. Ron would be here soon, and warm anticipation flooded through Hermione. For most of her life, she'd seen her body as something to be kept clean and healthy but otherwise ignored. But since Christmas last, the day on which she and Ron had nervously but eagerly given their virginity to each other, that had changed. Ron's earthy, natural sensuality had drawn from her a response that was as passionate as it was surprising - and things kept getting better every time.

A large figure loomed outside the tent. "'Mione?" Ron whispered.

"I'm here, darling," she replied softly. "Come in, quick!"

Molly Weasley looked out of her bedroom window. Dark figures were slipping from tent to tent outside. As Arthur came in from the bathroom, she asked him, "Arthur, what d'you think those kids are up to?"

He chuckled. "Same as we would have been at their age, love."

Molly sighed. "I don't know as I approve..." she fretted until her husband cut her short.

"That doesn't sound like the girl who was always ready to slip up to the Boys' Dormitory with me on a quiet afternoon."

Molly couldn't help but laugh. "Honestly, Arthur! I swear, I was a virtuous young girl until you came along and gave me _that _look."

He came up behind her and put his arms round her. "So it was my fault, was it?"

"Entirely." She realised by the feel of him on her back that he had shed his pyjamas. "Arthur?"

He kissed her neck softly. "Well, why should the kids have all the fun?" he asked reasonably.

"So right!" She turned in his arms, and a moment or two later, her nightdress joined his pyjamas on the floor.

Ginny had led Harry into the woods, to a clearing where a little hut stood.

"Bill made this for me years ago," she told him. "I loved playing house back then. I came here yesterday and sorted it out for tonight."

It had taken only a little magic to make the child-sized bed big enough for them both. These two knew each other's bodies, every spot where a touch or a kiss brought pleasure. But this time, when the urge to complete the act came on, they didn't hold back. In this state of high excitement, Harry's mind opened to Ginny's, and he knew exactly what to do and when. At the last moment, when she quivered and cried out in his arms, they both knew that they had pleased each other.

Some time later, Harry slipped out, naked, into the clearing under a half-moon, and looked up at the sky. So much had changed in the last year! He was more skilled, more powerful than he had ever been. The confusion in his mind had given way to clarity and purpose. He had someone to love, someone who loved him, and he had a family and friends. Finally, he had managed to restore Sirius, whom he had thought lost forever.

For the first time, Harry believed that everything was right with the world. He was even more certain when Ginny came out, also nude, to join him, asking, "Knut for your thoughts, Harry?"

"Don't think they're worth that much, love!" He took her in his arms and kissed her, unable to resist her ivory body in the moonlight. She slid her hand down the flat hardness of his belly.

"And in the forest, something stirred," she murmured. "Wasn't twice enough for you?"

"No way!" Harry's strong hand cupped a firm breast. Ginny made a little noise that was something between a moan and a sigh, a sound that was incredibly sexy to Harry.

"Want to go back inside?" she breathed.

"Why? There's only the moon to see us, and I don't suppose she'll be offended."

As they settled to the grass together, Harry knew that things were more than right; they were perfect.

_Hope is the destination that we seek.  
Love is the road that leads to hope.  
Courage is the motor that drives us.  
We travel out of darkness into faith._

_**--The Book of Counted Sorrows**_

END

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